Sunday, October 16, 2011

Purifying

From a letter to a friend:
The beauty of writing is that it truly gives your power back to you and that is your birthright! You deserve to have it. Writing is such a direct way to examine and bring things to light. I am convinced that it can be purifying even when it is boring, frightening, silly, or sad. Perhaps it is the process that counts more than the words themselves. I don't even reread my notebooks. It's as if I speak onto the page and it washes away down the stream.

Last night we made a fire in the pit for the first time and I was mesmerized watching the flames. I sat out there with Bill and Lily in our rusty 1950's lawn chairs and the moon came up over the garage and shined like a big spotlight over us. The neighborhood was unusually quiet and I was grateful. Lily lay down on the damp grass and chewed on sticks. The delicious smell of woodsmoke permeated the air and our clothing, reminding me of summer camp. We stared at the flames, occasionally blowing on the embers and adding twigs.

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