The Uncertainty is Nearly Killing Me…

Photo on 1-20-2016 at 1.11 PM #2

In her most recent book, Still Writing: The Perils and Pleasures of a Creative Life, best-selling author Dani Shapiro writes,

When writers who are just starting out ask me when it gets easier, my answer is never. It never gets easier. I don’t want to scare them, so I rarely say more than that, but the truth is that, if anything, it gets harder. The writing life isn’t just filled with predictable uncertainties but with the awareness that we are always starting over again.

I am sitting in a café with large windows, light streaming in, jazz music playing. At this point, I have an idea, a working title, a little piece of inspiration. I am starting over again. I don’t know how this piece will turn out but I do know that before I leave the cafe I’ll have a first draft.

There is a little bit of uncertainty – roughly 45 minutes of uncertainty – involved in writing this post. And that amount of uncertainty is manageable for me.   Bite sized.

Continue reading “The Uncertainty is Nearly Killing Me…”

Making Space for Uncertainty

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Three years ago, my boyfriend of 4.5 months broke up with me.  And so it was a process of untangling our lives and letting go.

After a couple of weeks of not talking to him and crying a lot, the crying stopped and I slipped back into talking, texting with him.

A lot.

Continue reading “Making Space for Uncertainty”

you

just writing your name
I start to cry
alone
in the restaurant

this joyful
beautiful man
plucked from my life

quickly
effortlessly
the bandaid ripped off.

I want to love him more
I want to save him from himself

I want us to be free birds together

the bandaid is ripped off
and the sting
remains

To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate to the Young Adult Program CLICK HERE.

remember that day in the park

when I met you
sitting ackwardly
on the grass
chasing the sunshine

remember that day in the park
where we first kissed
warm
under the blanket
and we both went home alone

remember that day in the park
hobbling with cane
black eye
street meat and kisses for dinner

remember that day in the park
where you left me
us both yelling and crying
peeling apart our tangled lives