Sharings by Daniel

Well, I’m no cook to be speaking about what it takes to prepare a Thanksgiving dinner; but I do fancy myself (don’t we all) as knowing when a meal has been prepared properly.  If everyone raises a glass to toast…if the flavors are admired and then fade into the backdrop of conversation…and if afterwards, there’s no room for more…well that’s a well-prepared feast!

What then would I lay on my plate so that I may savor a moment to myself?

How much toil and toast-burning must there be, before I feel I deserve to sit back and be?

What must I do to be?  Silly question I suppose, we all know “blogito ergo sum” (I blog therefore I am).  There is nothing that can be done without being.  So I suppose what I meant was…what must I do to be…free? aware? fulfilled?  I must practice it.  I must gain that piano-playing-freedom that comes from habits where the music is created without commanding the fingers to touch the keys.  If I were a monk, perhaps I’d pray the rosary.  But as a writer, what habit shall I form that is customary to my craft?

Need I read the classics or tread the online forums; is it in the writing, editing, or critiquing of others’ works?   Perhaps I should journal daily like exercising the soul.  Or practice the existential art of standing open in moments of lucidity?  I could call beyond myself in contemplation; or find peace in the embrace of the man I love (I confess that I am a bit of the romantic, feeling the best place to write love poetry would be on the rear of his resting nude body).  But in order to be in that amorous mood of teasing out the words onto paper, I must find that state of mind where I lay open as well.

I guess any answers would be unique to the individual…  But I do admire that glint in the eye of the accomplished poet that reveals the joy they found along the way.