Looking through old photos taken over the last few years I’ve noticed many of them are paths.
Here’s one from my Australian collection:
I used to worry over whether I’d chosen ‘correctly’ – career path, partner, houses, computer, bed, bread or board.
The agony of choice overwhelmed me, and I’d find equally interesting choices and not know which one to take. Perhaps that’s why I find re-drafting my novel so hard. Have I thrown away a writing nugget? For me the fun is in creation rather than shaping. As I type I’m surrounded by stacks of drafts of my novel, and centimetres of feedback from my writers group. I have many versions of my novel.
Perhaps subconsciously my photos are telling me that I’m still working out the answer to the riddle of what I should be doing, or where I should be going. Maybe I think that once I’m on the ‘right’ path I’ll be happy, or fulfilled, or content.
Looking at these images, it seems I’m still trying to work it out. I’ve always felt a ‘little out of sorts’, taking the role of observer on the edge of things, which is a good state to be in for a writer. Writing for me is far easier than speaking, it’s the place where my thoughts live. It is the writing, or not doing the writing that has dominated so much of my life. There’s been on-going frustration – as discussed in my very first blog post about how I wasn’t putting my work there, and so wasn’t being ‘heard’.
Interestingly, at the end of my thirty day challenge to change things I wrote that I’d climbed the path. Now I’m feeling I’m still half way up – and that’s good because at the top of the path, with a clear view the only way is down. And I want to keep on climbing and exploring choice in my writing and life.
The more I write, blog and practice being creative – then the happier I feel and my inner voice that knows what to do and is instinctive rather than intellectual, is heard.
The last word belongs to Robert Frost – a Youtube recording of Robert Frost reading of The Road Not Taken