I think every creative soul is just a little more sensitive than most people. At best, it’s just that you feel something completely. At worst, it’s like walking around without your skin. There’s no barrier or protection from the elements. If I’m truly angry, it’s throw-something-at-your-head-pissed-off. If I’m hurting, it’s almost worse than physical pain. But the flip side of that is when I’m happy, I’m completely joyful. If I love you, then I love you completely, and that leaves me vulnerable. If you hurt me and I hate you, then I wish terrible things on you. (Then I remind myself that I’m a Buddhist and I believe in karma and it isn’t right to wish pain on another living thing. And then I go meditate.)
Every artistic person I know has something in them that makes them more sensitive to the world around them. It doesn’t matter if you’re a writer, a painter, an actor, every artist feels the world around them on a level that most people can’t see. It’s like living with another sense. We’re so much more vulnerable to the world around us.
I tend to write a lot more when I’m in some kind of exquisite agony. I journal almost every day and I have several word documents on my hard drive with the first few chapters of a book I just can’t seem to write. But when I’m hurting, when the world has taken something from me, I turn to words and I tend to publish more blogs, journal more pages, seek more words trying to get it all out. Part of it is that I hope my words will help someone that’s feeling something similar. Part of it is that I need to get these thoughts and feelings out so that I’m not crushed under them.
My world is different today. One of my heroes and icons has taken his own life because he couldn’t see past the darkness. It reminds me of the delicate nature of the artistic soul and brings my need to find words to soothe the pain to the surface.
The pain is so much bigger than I am right now. So I write. I blog. I journal. I stand in the shower and think of all of the words I can possibly find to apply as a salve to the wound.
I have so many things going on right now. I’m at the beginning of treatment for a brain tumor. I’m planning the next school year’s curriculum because I homeschool my youngest. My son is in the final weeks of deployment. And I am listening to the rain today, thinking that the universe knows it should release the tears today. It should be raining today. The thunder should be rumbling. The world should be acknowledging that it lost something great.
And I’m trying so hard to find some kind of peace. To let go of some of the agony of it all. Because the pain is bigger than I am right now. And because I seem to be living my life on seizure patrol right now. If I’m going to have a seizure, it’s probably going to be because of a heightened emotional state. I don’t know how much that makes sense with the rest of this blog, but these are all of the words in my head and it’s okay if it doesn’t completely make sense yet. I just know that I tend to have what my neurologist refers to as “absence seizures” (brain locking up, otherwise seen as me not being able to find the word I want in the middle of a sentence). And I get twitchy when I’m upset.
So I’m trying to remember how to breathe. And that means lots of words.
Ana’laigh ~ Xun