Inspiration

 Just when I sink feeling blue and hopeless, inspiration arrives. Thank you wholeheartedly Lisa and Brendan.

and

Dearest Marlene

 I received your email this morning and I know too well that I haven't posted here in a long time. Every day I tell myself to write a blog and every day I find reasons not to. I am writing. I am pretty good about writing myself a letter in the morning as a way to get through my day. When I don't, I am a scrambled mess. I have continued to write my novel though I have no idea how to write one. Oh I do have a number of books outlining a step by step approach but I don't want to take the time and besides, I want to create something original. Susan and David smile and frown at me when I discuss my progress or lack of it. It's so easy for others to say "do it". At times, I am astonished at my bravery and at other times, I despair because I have so easily deluded myself and am an idiot. I am reading Smart's "At Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept" and Anais Nin's "Henry and June" for permission to say whatever I want. 

Yesterday I wrote down this Smart quote: "To deny love, and deceive it meanly by pretending that what is unconsummated remains eternal, or that love sublimated reaches highest to heavenly love, is repulsive, as the hypocrite's face is repulsive when placed too close to the truth."

Oh, I have been so repulsive. And yet, there are startling moments when I return to see what I've written the day before and I grin and think myself pretty fucking amazing. Unfortunately these moments are rare but aren't the greatest moments in one's life rare and startling and beautiful when they appear in the most ordinary of circumstances?

I worry also that I have left it too late, that my weather-worn brain will fail me or is failing me or is not up to the challenge. I was afraid of reading Anne Truitt's third journal "Prospect" because the second spoke of aging and its limitations but I am now into it and instead of being disheartened, I am encouraged. She quotes Cicero born in 106 BC - I am always amazed that old wisdom is still wise:

"Age does not steal upon adults any faster than adulthood steals upon children... I regard nature as the best guide... Since she has planned all the earlier divisions of our life expertly, she is not likely to make a bad playwright's mistake of skimping the last act.

"Great deeds are not done by strength or speed or physique: they are the product of thought, and character, and judgement. And far from diminishing such qualities actually increase with age.

"Age has to be fought against; its faults need vigilant resistance. We must combat them as we should fight a disease - following a fixed regime, taking exercise in moderation, and enough food and drink to strengthen yet not enough to overburden. However the mind and spirit need even more attention than the body, for old age easily extinguishes them, like lamps when they are not given oil..."

I struggle every day trying to create a regime that works for me, and trying to go easy on myself when I fail. For example, this morning I wrote: "Rob has gone to pick up our car with its new perfect body (hopefully) and I am wondering whether to attack my novel, write a blog, do my morning pages, vacuum the upstairs while Rob is out and so on it goes - the everyday demands and then the extravagant personal self-indulgent writing, and the craziness of reading three books at the same time. I drive myself crazy trying to be productive, establish a routine, and never feeling fast enough, quick witted enough and at the same time, telling myself to slow down that, in the end, it doesn't really matter."

I fear my dear Marlene, that I haven't quite conquered my "addiction to perfection". I should possibly read Marion's book again too but how much can a greedy person like myself absorb?