Community Blog
These posts were all written by someone in a Soul Writing group or workshop in ten minutes or less—really!
Not only that, what you read is virtually unedited from the original, timed writing. Several pieces often have the same title since groups write together on one prompt. Join us anytime to try it out for yourself. For now, happy reading.
Today’s the day
I noticed something new this week. (What a boring way to begin—okay, let’s be boring.) All experiences are one. Let me start again.
I pretended to…
I pretended to care. I put this face on a lot, with my family. And sometimes they put it on for me.
More than anything else …
More than anything else, I need space to be me. To explore. To sink into my feelings, my self, my depths. To know who I am at 43, vs. who I was at 23, or 29, or 33.
If I just kept going…
We climbed to the top of the bleachers. In our 60s, still agile as mountain goats, walking on the seats instead of the treads. Those seats, dusty, straw covered wooden planks.
Beside myself
Beside myself in the sidecar of my life / Sits many other “me’s” / There isn’t just one / And why they need to be along for the ride / Instead of inside / Is a curiosity
Beside myself
I never thought that a singing voice could move me, but it did. I am a purist at heart and I have argued and argued that music is all about sound and sound only. Adding words to it is like adding weight to a cart and asking the oxen to carry more load.
Help yourself
The tablecloth flaps in the wind, threatening to upset the settings that sit on top. Each place is marked with a smooth white plate, a golden piece of square fabric, and a heavy fork. There are no place cards because the guest list is fluid.
Around in circles
A child grabs an armpile of round lids, round cups, the yogurt container, the frisbee, and traces wildly. She is manifesting near perfection.
Around in circles
I love a labyrinth. I’m looking forward to seeing the ones at Grace Cathedral, perched at the top of a San Francisco hill. I often forget, though, that we have a few much closer by — a short neighborhood walk away.
I simply want to …
There are planets of friendships and worlds of dreams about turquoise tsunamis and smiling hound dogs that swim in peace like dolphins with wet noses, bobbing along like ducks and people who get along at a music festival.
I’ll never understand
I’ll never understand the truly polite woman. The one who stands like a first lady on my left shoulder.
I’ll never understand
When I close my eyes in search of a memory, something comes to my mind right away. I see an escalator moving up and I am on it.
I need you to know / I don’t want to know
Dear Mom and Dad, I want you to know that the stories from my childhood still have the power to crack me up.
I need you to know…
… that I fail every day. I am stealing this line from a recent movie “The Dig”, and that’s the line I still remember.
I need you to know / I don’t want to know
I need you to know… That I care. That I hurt. That I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t want to know what you think.
A sure promise
As much as I may try to settle in to the relief one can experience with a “surety” / My body warns me of the lie.
I write into being …
I have to start today with a confession. Bless me, Group, for I have sinned.
I write into being …
I write into being the shape of my grief. Or, sometimes, my joy. I work things out on the page.