writing

i want to write much more than i do. but if i start the list of the “i wants” then there will be no end to this blog entry.so i will stop there and just explore this writing thing for a moment.

i read other people’s blog daily, getting inspired by thoughts, images, canciones, and the books they read/post. i’m inspired a toda hora. the early morning skies as well the late nights with loved ones and/or las gatas. bright nail polish, thank you’s from l.a. drivers as we, my brother’s cards with dibujos and dedicated songs- i guess when your in the music you hear is the one you carry memorized from all the time outside, before the lockup. but he has also told me about a young man who has a voice that gives my brother the chills! he sings corridas that tell stories of love, hardship, life. the men often hang out in circles and tell stories, sing, play cards for juice and cookies, all the while cracking jokes and passing el tiempo. the resiliency also inspires me.

tonight i was inspired by the books i was reading (bird by bird, sister outsider, and remembered rapture). My reading tonight coincidentally had two lessons:

  1. my deep essential knowledge of and experience of joy creates parameters in which I live my life in. translation: knowing joy forbids me from accepting anything less than I know I am capable of feeling, being, and doing.
  2. writing is in a sense on of the ways in which I live out my spirituality. To write is to connect to the mysterious in me, in life, and in others.

last night i spent in ceremony. after the much more violent raid of the l.a. occupy camp i spent 24 hours trying to figure out peoples’ last names and where they were sent so that i can help raise money for the few comrades i found there.

its been an intense few weeks. i put out the intention of writing and i sit to try to put words to the images and emotions i witness…y nada. nothing comes out. instead i experience frustration around my inability to release.

i read books about writing, i read other people’s experiences with “writers block”, i talk to friends about it, i write about it here…so now i wonder what is blocking me from getting in touch with my voice?

in ceremony, Q said i have the wisdom of an abuelita. that i have an all seeing silence, watching more than the eye could see. the reading i did last night was about using my writing as a spiritual tool- i think what i am gathering is that i’d like to write from that space of all seeing, all knowing. a remembering space, a trusting space. i have so many experiences ready to be shared..feel their vibration at my fingertips…but no magic wand that gets my words out. i am surrounded by love, support, and wisdom of so many strong women in my life. i think of them as i get stuck in my own thoughts, as inspiration. maybe if i just keep writing, something will surface.

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