It’s too easy to let things slip, to think ‘I can come back to that,’ or ‘I’ll have time tomorrow for…’. Yet, when everything seems important, imperative or imminent, little feels rewarding.
In my very small garden is a tub of red geraniums. The petals, robust flags of red, clump comfortably together, the blooms, unhurried in their blooming, are languid in their display.
Elixir is nothing like my red geranium. It has not bloomed in my mind or heart for several months. It has failed, unlike my strumpet geranium, to grab my attention, and so I ask myself, ‘Why did I start Elixir? What did I want to achieve? Why, indeed, write a blog?’
In Writing as a Way of Healing, Louise de Salvo asks,
…what if writing were a simple, significant, yet necessary way to achieve spiritual, emotional and psychic wholeness? To synthesize thought and feeling, to understand how feeling relates to events in our lives and vice versa? p6.
Elixir started as a blog about therapeutic writing. Then it changed and, perhaps, lost its way. What kind of blogger loses control of her blog?
Hauling Elixir back to its original premise, a blog about the power of writing to heal, feels right. It feels simple and significant and necessary and it feels like Elixir has returned to its source:
My interest has never been in end results, but in the process of creation and expression…(*)
What have you resurrected lately?
(*) Judy Clinton, in Writing Works: A Resource Handbook for Therapeutic Writing Workshops, p. 217.