A Choice & A Request

I have the stories that matter to my unfolding, and I have the need to write. But it hasn't been happening.

I know that my next book's working title is The Choice. I know it is about my struggle to make the choice to really be here in this life, within this body-self (not the one I remember having twenty years ago or fantasize about having if I ever start doing the exercise I say I will,) in this world (not the one built on romanticized memories of what we say once was or the one we hope we will create some day.) It’s about the nitty-gritty of what it means to say yes to life on all levels, no matter what demons- inner or outer- are licking their lips, baring their teeth and eye-balling me like a juicy piece of meat.

My agent told me yesterday to dip my pen in the blood and start writing. He’s right- about both about my need to write and where the stories have to come from. There’s no walking around what has unfolded since I wrote my last book.

And that’s part of why I haven't been doing the writing I need to do. I want to write around and not through the stories of the last ten years: a downward spiral and periods of separation from my inner knowing and connection to Presence that I could not have imagined was possible; the agony of betrayal, separation, divorce; loss of my home and belongings; the realities of caring for two parents with Alzheimer’s shredding my efforts to re-imagine a childhood rooted in silent terror as something other than what it was.

Of course, there’s also been recovery and healing, deepening insight and growing awareness but these are most often less like once-and-for-all celebratory aha-moments, but rather like the slow and sometimes not-so-steady lurching, stumbling, falling and painful rising of a small mud-covered animal crossing a burnt-out forest floor.

The books I have written have all been the truth of the journey I was taking. But the story is incomplete.

So what stops the writing? The two things that always stop us when we know what to do (or at least where to start) and find ourselves paralyzed or distracted: shame and fear. 

But still there is (with the help of many and that which is larger than us all) faith: in truth-telling to dispel shame and allow us to reclaim our lives; in storytelling to mend what is broken; in creativity to allow us to keep walking through the fear.

Ironically (or perhaps predictably,) I cannot make the choice to be here fully in this life without writing the book I am calling The Choice.

So, dear friends, I am going to allow myself the gift of inconsistency in those places where I am easily and pleasurably distracted. I will participate less on Facebook and put up a blog here intermittently instead of every week as I have done for several years (or post only small snippets and not worry about how coherent they are.) I will stop answering the many emails I receive each month- simply reading them when I can and saying prayers of gratitude.

I ask for your help- and there is a way you could help me immensely. Publishing these days is dependant  upon "on-line presence," and the time and energy required to cultivate that presence makes it almost impossible to write a book. So, even if I am not here as much, I would ask that you keep both this blog and my Facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/Oriah.Mountain.Dreamer?fref=ts) alive while I write by "liking" or commenting on what is posted, sharing it with friends, and subscribing here (put your email address in at the bottom of the green column on the right side of the page.) 

 

Because the truth is, nobody makes the choice to be here fully in one small particular life in this big beautiful and sometimes overwhelming world, without a lot of help, without companions with whom we can sit around the fire after a long day of walking. 

Oriah (c) 2013