I had lunch with Weed yesterday and when I got to the pub late, I found him at the table reading my book. He let me know that this was the first book he had read in a long time because of dyslexia. But to overcome it, he told me how he learned over time to assign colors to words, and that they became more like symbols he could recognize, since the words themselves might appear jumbled or backward. I was moved by his story because it showed me how he refused to let his limitation stop him from overcoming.
As a writer, I accept that there are times when I sit down to this computer in the morning and feel completely inadequate to communicate anything. Sometimes I am so full of intensity and sentiment that I have no familiar words to describe it. In frustration I have to assign a few of them that I know to try and form a thought that might make sense to you. More often than not, I finish a post like this wondering if it’s just gibberish. It falls so short of my internal experience.
But the desire to connect with and communicate a message supersedes the restriction. It’s in our nature. It bourgeons like a bud in spring. It wants to be seen.
One symbol I have assigned to my writing is the icon of a key. A key is meant to unlock, open up and allow entry and passage. I can lock my front door without a key but I can’t open it unless I have the right one. I never want my words to bind or restrict. I want them to liberate and emancipate.
Words are my keys that I hope will open up a whole bunch of locks. This drives me to keep writing even when I feel like I just spent 45 mins tapping out nonsense.
Your words have the same loosing effect on me. They open me up also. Some of you have taken time to write back about your grief journey and it’s helpful and appreciated. It gives me insight I didn’t have before.
When I take the risk to reach out and share a story, it sometimes feels like reaching for the doorknob in the dark, fumbling through the keyring, hoping that the one I selected from the many in my hand will fit and lead me inside.
We all possess keys to unlock each other’s heart. I love finding people who hold one for me.