**This post was inspired by my dear friend and my honey. I love you both.**
I once had a close friend say to me that she did not know
how to write in her times of happiness.
I never understood her; how joy could leave a writer, usually so verbose
in her language and descriptive in her text, devoid of the lexicon to express
her bliss. She is a writer by trade,
which confounded me even more. Her blog
consistently keeps my fervid attention and fills me with curiosity. A few years ago she had gone through a deep
depression after sour medical news turned her weeks into monotonous days of
mindless work and bottles of wine into blurred nights. A depression which had her torn, and as her
friend I tried desperately to keep knitting the pieces together. Her blog and writing flourished then; it was
a conduit for her grief. Less than a
year later, she succumbed to the “institution” (as she called it) of marriage,
and unbeknownst to her at the time, her husband was her buoy. He turned her wounds into wings, allowing her
Venus-like beauty to flourish in ways only Botticelli could depict. She was reborn into herself again. It was during those times that I would
refresh her website hoping for a new blog post to get a glimpse of her newfound
emotions and partake in her life journey, yet her pages went empty for a few
months as she reconciled this novel feeling she was experiencing. It was when she was truly happy and at peace
where she struggled most to find the words to place the sentiments. Her emotional resurrection left her
mute. She admitted this to me on of our monthly
wine and cheese outings. I was frankly,
shocked. Why? Wouldn’t this be when your emotions run high? When the words spill out vehemently and a renaissance
would take place?
I too, am a writer of thoughtful, inquisitive, and often
depressing prose and poetry – of unrequited love, of relationships lost, and of
familial tension. It has been months
since my last poem or blog, more than a year since my last painting, and even
longer since my last choreography. It
feels as though the right side of my brain is decomposing. I can’t help but question why: Is my new
relationship changing me? Am I balancing
my time correctly? Am I losing my
touch? All self-deprecating
deliberations my mind is mediating on lately.
The answer came to me after remembering my friend’s comment. The words simply do not come anymore. I, like her, find myself in a healthy,
steady, honest relationship. One that
makes me smile, allows me a peace in my heart, and a calmness when I lay my head
to rest. He is unlike my past – tumultuous,
destructive, and inflamed. He is composed,
wise, sympathetic, and welcoming. Our
relationship is unlike any I have ever experienced; I sought out the
impassioned relationship, full of extremities of emotion. The emotions during those times fed the right
side of my brain for an outlet to process the excess which my heart could
not. My writing developed and my artwork
became the canal I used to sieve my emotions into a healthy instrument. To be honest, for years my canal was flooded
and overwhelmed with mood swings, sensitivity, rage, and most of all, vulnerability. My levees could not withstand the dramatic force
of this inflamed pressure.
When I moved to Miami a year and a half ago to find my inner
nirvana, my canal experienced a waning of pressure. The ocean breeze and warm translucent waters
filled my spiritual core. Less than two
months into my stay in Miami, I met a man who also kept my waters even and
sought to abate the lingering waves from my past. He was gentle, reassuring, soothing, loving. A love that persisted and covered me in his
strength. My canal was no longer agitated,
but the water ran through it steadily, comforting my days. My artwork diminished and my words also
quieted, but my waters were full of a calming caress. I now can understand and appreciate why my
friend’s blog went on a hiatus during those blissful relationship and newlywed
years. She was no longer trying to quell
the fiery waters, but instead enjoying the tranquil and idyllic ride as she floated
through these new emotions. They were
unfamiliar, but received with a colossal embrace. Part of life is to enjoy the journey. Our happiness is one we are still learning to
process, but embracing fully as we travel through this voyage. Our words have stopped and our lexicon put on
pause, but our bodies, minds, and souls are very much involved. My creativity will return once I have formed
the intellect to comprehend my senses and the novel expressions of tranquility and
love in my heart.
In the meantime, I’m following the waters to my happy...
