The winter solstice doesn’t also mean that we will experience the coldest day of the year.
The earth still contains some heat from our summer and autumn.
The coldest day of the year is still a month or so away.
|Hope, 2015, Ian Friend Gallerysmith|
The sun has come out in Sydney this morning…and that always helps…but it doesn’t look like it will last for very long.
Apart from it, there is no other green
Are now scars and holes
My dear, that is a fact of life
Solitary, dark, but not as bad as despair
After a long blogging absence my good friend, The Girl Booker posted the post I needed to read last night.
Two years ago she read Elizabeth Gilbert’s book Big Magic.
She finally posted her thoughts on it yesterday, fully aware of the irony in waiting two years to publish.
I really like the way she talks about creative living as being work. Sometimes it is hard, sometimes it is even boring, and only sometimes is it wondrously inspiring. But if it is something you feel compelled to do, and it makes you feel better at the end of each day, then it is important. She also affirms that it is important even if you are the only person to see the finished product. It’s about the process for the creator, not about the intended or eventual audience.
This morning I picked up an ARC teetering on the top of my pile.
It’s title caught my eye –
Solitude: In Pursuit of a Singular Life in a Crowded Life by Michael Harris.
First up, the cover matches the top I’m wearing today (it’s always a bonus when you can colour coordinate your book with your outfit!)
Secondly, the book discusses the rhythms of life:
‘there’s a time for resting, a time for hunting, a time for courting, a time for hiding.’
In our modern society we have changed the rhythms of life so much that we have lost the experience of true solitude. We never find ourselves alone anymore – we’re always on our phones; we’re connected and busy.
This struck a chord with me.
I think my words have got lost in the busyness of modern life.
My motivation and my passion got attached to external constructs.
I need to, I WANT to, get back in touch with what’s important to me.
I am compelled to write – I always return to words.
I just need some quiet time, some solitude, to rediscover my inspiration.