Today I feel like writing you a letter, although I would have preferred to write it by hand, I have to nevertheless be content by typing it out.
I should be writing the blog and unfortunately the voice inside of me is forcing me to write a letter, and I have decided to listen to the voice.
This morning I was walking in the park for a change, and as usual I sent my 97-year-old lovely mother-in-law a morning message, with a beautiful photo of the old platane tree in the Kinsky Gardens, telling her that after the walk I was going to spend the day writing. She wished me in her elegantly loving manner, that my quill would be light and thoughts plenty.
“I wish you a light quill and plenty of thoughts.” What more could I want? Even if the quill is light, that is my fingers are typing swiftly and the words are flowing today, and even if my thoughts are plenty, and really they are, yet if my heart is silent and sad it is not so easy to get yourself to writing. It took me the whole morning and afternoon to start this letter to you. I will not write about why I am sad or why my heart is silent, because it is what it is, life takes us through such periods and the only thing we can do is to go through them in the most sincere way we can. And I am really trying to do so.
In these times when I feel so, I usually take refuge in a long walk or listening to music.
I have just started to play a wonderful interpretation of Bach’s Passacaglia and Fugue by Emmanuel Despax
I know that I have shared this album with you before in one of my blogs, but today is a letter and I would like to offer it to you as a gift. It accompanies me today, and maybe you will find it like a little breeze, caressing your cheek during your chores and flow during your day.
I hope that you are well today, and that you are accompanying yourself during your actions, and also looking up into the sky, breathing consciously, and in spite of everything that is happening, trying to breathe out airs of peace. I am trying to do this too, and everytime I do I feel that I am more harmonious with failing. I fail, small or big, but with time I am starting to fail more consciously, more harmoniously. As if something inside me tells me not to be afraid of failing.
But, do excuse me, I actually wanted to write about something else, and I failed 🙂
Dear reader, as I am advancing with little steps in this path of writing the book, I started reflecting yesterday about how much pressure I give myself about writing. The wish to write something really good has been building up in me, and slowly I started to see something approaching me from the horizon. I didn’t know what it was, until yesterday the distance was close enough for me to recognize it: ambition!
This encounter, even from far away, really froze my heart. How could I have been so insensitive and not feel that some kind of incognito ambition was growing in my head? The ambition of finding the right words, finding the right tone, of making it sound and look perfect, and accessible to everyone. Why? Well so that everyone can read it and have access to it. And this striving of making the perfect content, and the perfect paragraphs just tired me, that I couldn’t advance and ambition caught up with me, so close it came, I could recognize it.
This was like a shock for me, in fact my wish of wanting to write something clear, important, and understandable was actually blocking my process. And it took me a second to see the self-sabotage.
I see now that all the work I have done in my dancing and moving is supporting me in my writing process. Experienced writers (if ever they would read me here) would probably say, well this is normal, you have just started writing, you have a long way to go. 🙂In my movement path, it took me many years to overcome the inner judgement, the self-sabotage, the doubt, the pointless worrying about if the audience will like me, understand me, etc. even during the period when Somatic Dialogue was starting to be somehow clearer, I found myself restricting myself, judging my moves, judging my impulses. I believe that with age and time and practice, I am much freer now: I can still see myself moving and criticize my movement, but it doesn’t bother me anymore. I move without restrictions (just the physical ones) and am in accordance with my impulses when I improvise.
I was pretty sure that this was the case also when I started writing the book and this blog. But during this process still the sneaky old fellow called ambition was able to appear into my field of vision. I realized that I had accumulated desires such as being perfect, and this was preventing my natural flow.
In the very depth of my being I know that I am not a writer, and yet I cannot help not writing, I give it some kind of importance and place in my life, however I wish to separate it from any kind of ambitious intention. And this means just stop overthinking and get on with it. Write, in the simplest form that can be, and make the effort to squeeze out the meaning, the words, and not be afraid of failing.
I may not have written something deep today, or something that may be considered worth reading, dear reader, but I have stayed true to my impulse, and instead of making something up and writing… I decided to express myself today.
May you read me with a light heart,
May you bring lightness into everything you do today,
May we recognize the precious moments in our daily experiences,
May we come closer to the truth of what this existence means.
Thank you.