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suffering (2)

Creative Agony

Here, I felt the creative agony. There's a lived experience that touches deep. I want to convey it and seek a form. I want to transition to metaphors, fairy-tale characters, trees, animals. Anything, just to not state it outright. I'll try poems, stories, scripts. Even ChatGPT tried to assist, but it didn't quite succeed. Everything's a mess. I don't hit the depth; I don't reach the meaning. I went and ate whatever I found in the kitchen. A peach, then a pear, then nibbled some cheese from a packet. Felt a bit calmer. But I don't need calm. I need to write about what I want. Words should be taut like guitar strings, so they resonate. I'll continue to agonize or eat.



In the photo is today's Halo, which at first we mistook for a rainbow.

Forest under Dark Clouds.

I step out to my beloved forest edge. The sun illuminates everything around, the eye rejoices, the heart fills with love, everything is embraced by trust and security. The forest is alive. This patch of forest can be easily overlooked from a helicopter or Google Maps. But who can fathom its depth? Everything that happens in this patch? The forest is vast in its essential depth. One could study it endlessly, and it will always be different...

The sun hid behind dark clouds, the wind howled, the forest plunged into darkness. Fear engulfed me. I don't feel safe. Even though I have a flashlight in my hands, and in that flashlight burns a tiny flame. But what is this little flame for such a forest, to illuminate it? I don’t know what to do. The memory of how the forest looks in the light inspires me. Now I don't recognize the paths, the trees. Everywhere I look, I'm scared. I am afraid of the forest, I want to illuminate it. I want to somehow make it bright. The forest remains silent; I can't find out why it's in darkness, why it's struggling, if it will ever end and if it will end at all?

My language is the language of the flame in the flashlight. It wants to break free and light up the entire forest. Branch by branch, tree by tree. My flame wants to save the whole forest from darkness. And this has happened before. It broke free, and the forest burned in flames. The forest burned to the ground. Light spread, but it wasn't true light. It was a destructive light.

This time, I entered the dark restless forest. I left the flame in the flashlight. The flame remained silent and listened to the forest. The tiny light of the flame in the flashlight gently warmed the forest. The forest knew that I, with my flashlight, was waiting for light. Both the forest and I knew we just had to wait. Understand and accept the darkness. Allow it to exist in the forest. Not to fight the darkness so fiercely, not to lose what you love. The forest also feared the flame. It knew the flame could burn everything down.

We stayed silent for a long time. We built trust in each other. We allowed the darkness to exist. The forest began to feel better. The forest began to speak, and I just quietly listened. With each word the forest uttered, the clouds dispersed, and the sun illuminated branch by branch, tree by tree.

Now when there's darkness in the forest, I'll find the strength within me to go and wait, to go and listen. I don't want to lose love; I want to wait for the light.