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.
If I had forever
That was when I was 30 and full of energy, zest for life and needed a roadster for the heck of it.
If I had forever
Yesterday I came across an article about the oldest person on record - 122 years old when she passed.
If I had forever
If I had forever, I’m not sure I would do anything differently, but I am afraid that I would.
If I had forever
Day after day, I’d contemplated that each day could be The Last. My last. Maybe Mom wouldn’t return from the store, or Dad from a business trip.
If I had forever
Pinecones! There are heaps of scattered pinecones on our block. The perfect width for Gertie’s short little snout.
If I had forever
If I had forever I’d lay out all the feelings that are in me now, end to end. I’d walk along the miles of them, visiting each of them in turn, stopping for a conversation, a full-sized interaction.
I know this for sure
I have sketched out a lot of potential versions of myself in my head. Like life-sized cardboard cutouts, I’ve lined them up on a shelf in my mind.
I know this for sure
How much would you pay to belong? $100? $1 million? To belong to a club, a society? Membership has its privileges… And its price.
Yesterday and tomorrow
I have had many yesterdays. So many of them, I can’t remember at all, others I can only see through a deeply distorted lens, giving them a fun-house mirror quality.
Yesterday and tomorrow
Yesterday, I was wearing sneakers. Tomorrow, I will eat cornbread for breakfast.
Where am I in my own way?
Today, this morning, while lying on my back, breathing deep into my lower belly in an attempt to inflate and stabilize that sleepy part of my body while I did my recommended core exercises, Gertie began going berserk.
Re-forming
I watched, as the cloud of smoke jetted out from rounded lips, formed into a perfect ring, spreading, dissolving, re-forming, and at last in the encounter with a cross-draft, vanishing only to be replaced by a second, and a third.
Goodbye to…
I was seven, eight years old. The rows of Fiction were like the future to me. The Children’s section was wonderful, of course, colorful and sweet, but I climbed the YA with all my heart’s reach.
The tectonic plates edge closer, closer
Over tea with a friend, I said: My own actions need to get way bigger, or way smaller. I don't know which.
This way and that
This way and that, as if, like a wave in a bowl of water, motion is contained and governed by simple rules, my thoughts tend to cover and re-cover the same few points.
Do I have to?
Now there’s so little I feel I have to do, and yet so much space taken up by it. I get to do so many things, and seek joy in so many places. But I also have to find ways to say goodbye to friends, to family, to dreams, to possibility.
What is this?
“What is this?” You might ask if you visited today and walked upstairs to the gallery surrounded by windows and at least 15 degrees warmer than anywhere else in the house.
All that it is
I want them to walk through the world knowing that they are safe. And that they can land on their feet. Even when the world drops out from under them.