So, my last post on looking at the snakes in our lives in order to “live” goes beyond medical healing for me. I have found through writing that snakes slither onto my page undetected. My greatest childhood fear of a snake biting my bare bottom while seated on the toilet is how I feel now when my “past” hooks its fangs into my “business.” I hate that I’ve begun to deliver a prepared disclaimer to my weekly writing group –“It’s a bit of a downer…surprise!” Even worse, was last Wednesday when I decided not to follow my pen because I knew exactly where it was going (to death of something or someone in one form or another) and I was sick and tired of delivering doom and gloom. It was my all-time creative low when I crossed my words out and penned a couple of weak Haikus!
Why should I apologize for looking bravely at my imperfect past? As a writer, this is grist for my mill. Nietzsche remarked that a man must come to love his wounds and as Hemingway wrote, “Sit down at a typewriter and bleed,” so must I. However, when suppressed memories slither their way onto my page, I feel fragmented from my usual upbeat self. Every time I write, I feel my past makes a predatory raid on my person. I have found that the snakes are not under the toilet lid, but inside of me!
A self-proclaimed brave woman (not self-proclaimed funny) Lucille Ball, once said, “Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” Another woman I admire is online writing community leader and author, Peggy Tabor Millin. “As fearless writers, we write past uncomfortable toward the truth.” So, to be a brave woman or writer, I have found the struggle is in revealing my true self–not the self I present to the world, but the self I do not fully know and this scares me more than any snake but writing issss not for the cowardly!