Wednesday, September 10, 2014
I've had more people ask about my well-being lately, than ever. I can blame the tone of these latest postings.
Beginning with Robin Williams then discussing "My Obit", and the latest with "My Future", I can see how folks might be a bit concerned where my mood is. I figured I better explain what is flying thru my head lately, so people will be less concerned. As you will see, there is no logisticality to it.
When someone like Robin Williams, so vibrant, so full of life, and so giving of his spirit, leaves us, many will question their own mortality. The finality of passing is unlike anything else we experience. The end truly is the END. It may take a bit of time for that to sink in, but eventually, it sinks. It also might make us feel a little blue. Blue is wrong color for a person who has a hard time with mood swings. I know this from very personal experience, so I wanted to talk about it.
My impression is, if we talk enough, those that need a bit of help during the dark times will be more inclined to ask than if we bury our collective heads. We should never feel so bad that sharing is not an option. Human beings are not solitary creatures, yet a lot of us live a good portion of our existence alone. We need to belong. We need to feel our life is meaningful in some way. Some days are better than others in how we deal with the issues of the day, but for many, depression is a constant battle and one that is won and lost too often to count. Of course, those battles need not be fought alone.
One of the reasons writers write is to let folks know, there are many of us feeling the same way. That is a comfort to those in need. I can't pinpoint what makes ME write this or that, but I do know, it's only the strongest of emotions that pull the words out. I find it difficult to go on and on about meaningless things.
There is a theme to this site. It's not on purpose and not for everyone, obviously. It's not for my own benefit either. I don't get any emotional rewards, except for pride in a job well done. My definition is surely different than yours, but I am mostly proud of what you read here. I occasionally go back and test it by reading past entries and seeing if there is room for improvement. Usually there isn't. THAT is a job well done to me.
I find it interesting that poetry seems to be my "reset" button. If I feel there are no more words to put down on paper, poetry is what gathers my thoughts again. I have no idea why. There are times I've just been a spectator to the lines typed out to the screen. Nothing can explain how this works. Maybe it's a past-life jumping forward in a time machine, but, like the morning when "MY FUTURE HAS A FUTURE" came out, I can take no credit. They just happened. Weird huh?