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| We think we are set in stone and often standing still; but we are more made to take wing |
WHERE HAVE I been
this time?
Similar to the
last hiatus, and the ones before that: in a place called Trying To Get Over Something.
The Buddhist say,
“Too much life may kill.” So when I set out to write a straight week’s worth of
words on the New Zealand slaughter I should have considered what the effects
would be on you ... and on me.
Sometimes reading and
writing are therapy. Sometimes slow poison. For the writer it’s worse, since
“She who writes must read”; thus a doubling up of the wounding.
I am often damaged
when I write (then read) about really bad things.
Diet: Change
Trinis eat a lot
of rice. Like Asian people; like Latin people.
It’s a staple food
for us: most people have it almost every day for lunch or/and dinner. Even when
we dine on diverse foods we come back to rice.
Rice is a part of
life.
Many people view
change and variety as uncommon occurrences, rare coming things that are “the
spice” of life: basically intended for a dash, a pinch or half a teaspoon.
No. Change and
variety are like rice: a regular part of the meal of life itself; sating us,
nourishing us, giving us energy to go on.
Every day a new
I will come back
to writing on the New Zealand massacre; but not, as we Trinbagonians say, “all
in a one.”
I needed to remember it is vital to take a break from doing painful things, no matter how much they
need doing. Living shows us the way by bringing new things to us each day.
Different is part of our daily diet.
I must continue to do the
work, but I must never lose sight of why: because “I want to CHANGE the world.” There’s that word
again.
Come Good
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| Words are always with me, but always different words. Photo by Jhaye-Q |
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