Why I am escaping from writing?
It is never really the right place to write, never right conditions to write –
it should be more quiet
room should be warmer
stomach should not be so full of food
too many people around is not good
alone is too quiet
music is disturbing.
Tomorrow is for sure much better day to write!
And then next trouble – I want to write but I don’ t really know what to write. I have something in me which moves around and wants to come out into the light, but I don’ t know what it is.
I have to remember that I am just a brush, I have to give myself to the Life so it can paint with me. For that I need to take the paper and put my pen ready. So I do.
Here I am sitting, on Dave’s couch and I understand this is the best place because this is how it is now.
I got it: this is actually the best place in the world!
I just took a minute to feel where I am now and how I was in the past, I remembered that years ago I was afraid of Dave, I was fan of him but I couldn’ t talk to him because I was so insecure, I undervalued myself, I thought there are people who are more than I am. Now I can be here, he is just two meters away from me and explaining me how to use word “undervalue”. I am not afraid to ask, I am not afraid to be around him, my inner nervousness is gone and this makes this place the best place in the world. This is the revolution!
He made me a cup of peppermint tea, gave me some candies and helped me to start writing. This is one of Dave’s talents – encourage people to do what they love to do. I still remember so clearly when I was 14 and Dave was looking at me with his clearwarm eyes and I felt I get power from that, I needed this wordless encouragement, compassion, and I carried this with me to use it when I needed it.
The Birth Days of Friendship
This soul-calm quiet
in the presence of you
like a delicate blossom
with the heart of an oak.
Slow growth solid
there is no sense of need
this summer or the next.
The leaves as plain and pretty
in sunshine as in storm
there is shade to sit
(a single moment)
or branches to climb to forever.
Don’t guess it’s age
or speculate how long its life will last
Rings can be counted after death
and even then
its logs can warm
the winter of another’s heart