A Quiet Weekend

A friend commented on a previous post about a sense of longing that comes through in my writing. I think it’s always been there and I wonder if I can live my way out of it. I think that voice speaks to always feeling as if life was happening to other people. Other people got to play outside at recess, other people didn’t have to study as much as I did, other people fell in love. And if that is the story I have been unconsciously living…no wonder I am where I am.

I watched a very powerful documentary this weekend on Joseph Campbell and his thinking. What a wonderful human mind he had. It was so overpowering – the ideas of myth and story, of God, the need for creation, the symbolism of snakes and dragons, so much of it struck a cord.

I’ve been thinking for a long time that I need to change my story from the inside. The story of the diamond in the rough found by an explorer, Galatea waiting for her Pygmalion. My story is so much more active and dynamic than that. The experience so much richer. A long time ago, I did write a story about a woman who descended to the depths of the earth because God had cursed her. And as she grieved in the depths, she was able to strike a bargain, to come back to the earth and live many adventures. It’s funny to see how I have lived that arc in the last ten years. But back then, I didn’t know how to talk about love and finding the partner. That’s the story I need to write. This week.