The selection of a sacred strawberry

Writers often lament writer’s block and procrastination as colossal hurdles to a regular writing practice. While both hold a genuine place in the writers’ list of woes, it is my experience that nothing is a bigger enemy of the creative journey than ill-disposed mental health. One can create masterpieces in sorrow and carve out brilliant art in happiness but it is hard to get a grip on artistic pursuits when one is stressed or anxious. 

A stack of books and an open notebook

Since mid-November 2022 until now I have been struggling – first with a long spell of flu that lasted for a month and a half. Then, somewhere during this difficult time, debilitating worry and paranoia found their way into my life. I was trapped in a maze of repetitive thoughts and stress-induced negativity. I tried many things to heal my mind but it was a lonely journey.

The biggest casualty of my mental ill-health was my poetry. I realize how delicate a device poetry is. It demands total dedication. A disrupted mental frame cannot do justice to the pursuits of the poet. 

One of the tools recommended for mindfulness and healing is journaling. I do vouch for its benefits but that is a post for another day. What I discovered amidst these trials was that for me story writing is closer to journaling.

As my physical health gradually recovered after Christmas, I came across the Penfluenza 3.0 contest by WriteFluence. I decided to start writing because the theme of Ritual called out to me. Each day, I poured a lot of love and care into my draft. It slowly became a healthy diversion. My mind would be at ease at least in those crafting moments. The story itself was therapeutic.

My efforts were worthwhile because when the contest results were declared, I was glad to know that my short story was one of the winning entries. Today, I received a heartwarming message that the anthology that contains my short story is now available for purchase. Read about The Selection of a Sacred Strawberry.

Meanwhile, I tried to go back to my favorite daily activity of writing for poetry prompts. It didn’t happen. Thoughts arrived wrapped in imagery but the words wouldn’t manifest. I felt for my forsaken blog but when you are broken, you can’t create a piece that is as fragile as poetry. Short story, in my case, was the sturdier sibling of the poem!

This weekend, I returned to my blog to publish a book review. Some words formed and then they started to string together. I am not sure if I will be able to write frequently because unresolved issues still camp in my mind space. But I am trying – each day – to let go of what I cannot control and to get a grip on the things I can create.

Candlelight dreams

#LoveLetters prompt 12/18

On the yonder hilltop
A cottage enveloped
In silver sheets of rain
Carrying the prickly touch
And the aroma of pine trees
I sit by the window
Feeling the drops graze
Dusty tiles on the roof
An open book in hand
I nestle in the lap
Of candlelight dreams
As time comes to a halt!

Winter glow

For the #FromOneLine #Prompt 261, I found an inspiring visual

Mexican visual artist Raul Cantu creates stunning generative art of foggy landscapes. He uses photography, specialty lenses, technology, AI tools, and post-processing to achieve his art.

And here my words:

Sunlight through my window
Flirts with dancing dust sparkles
I gaze upon the washed rays
That caress with mellow light
A chilly wind further creases
The wrinkled skin of Wisdom
I hear the creaky bones of Winter
Her dewy eyes in reminiscence
Of another Year in an Earthly spin

Threshold

I thought I’d survive without you
But I couldn’t say goodbye
For the words lay tangled
At your doorstep
Afraid to cross the threshold
Into a life where you
Would not be waiting
At sundown, by the yellow lamp
A book in hand, the kettle whistling
Eager to tell and know
Of just another mundane day

Slip and Fail

Don’t be a stranger
To the voices within
For they hold reflections
Of your deepest sins.
Hear them out
When they proclaim
The path to be free
Of the guilt and pain,
To claim absolution
In knowing the truth
That you are only human
When you slip and fail!

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