I’ve heard it said that writing is a journey, but what does that mean
exactly? Does that mean you might as well prepare for an arduous, uphill
trip? Or maybe they simply mean writing is like a marathon race, a
long, slow road, with stops along the way to grab a cup of water?
So far, my own journey is more like a surprise, a box you open, and inside isn’t a prize, but another box, and you open it, to find yet another box. And another, all of them increasingly smaller and smaller, until the very last box is so small your fingers and thumb dwarf the teeny box.
But you open it anyway, because Pandora lives in each of us, that
need to know what is on the inside. And inside the box is a seed, a
kernel, perhaps even a bit of stardust. But just enough to keep us
going, to keep writing, keep trying.
Have you opened your boxes yet? And when you came to the very last one, what did you find?
So far, my own journey is more like a surprise, a box you open, and inside isn’t a prize, but another box, and you open it, to find yet another box. And another, all of them increasingly smaller and smaller, until the very last box is so small your fingers and thumb dwarf the teeny box.
Have you opened your boxes yet? And when you came to the very last one, what did you find?
2 comments:
I don't think all my boxes have been opened. All my boxes seem to be either jokes to make me laugh or surprises of either the good or bad kind. I never know what will pop out of my boxes next.
I love joke boxes, so long as the joke isn't on me! lol
From what you describe, Mary, it sounds as though there are still a lot of surprises to look forward to in your life, and like Schrödinger's cat, until you open the box, the surprise is going to be a happy one. That's a very positive outlook and one we all need to share. ((hugs))
*for my physics friends, no cat was harmed making this blog post* lol
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