It is the last week before we fall into a month of festivities.
I have been engaged in writing a novel this month, daily discipline of putting words on paper. It feels different to be in the last week, the last stretch. I miss being in “the thick” of it, not knowing, surrounded by words, ideas, front and back. Now there is this “end” in sight, which is not really an end of course. I for one have broken through the unknown of writing a novel/book from scratch in a short period of time. Although I am not done, I know this is doable.
Knowing sucks, the magic is gone, the trepidation, the uncertainty that creates wonder is over. Now it has become work. Without this knowing, without the work, we as humans could not produce. So on to product thinking! What will we do with all these words once the month is over?
I went to a NaNoWriMo write-in near the airport yesterday afternoon. A military plane, set up with tables, probably 18 writers from
all over the valley, young to old, doing the NaNoWriMo thing. (for those readers who are unfamiliar, NaNoWriMo is a writer’s marathon, 50,000 words in a month makes you a winner)
Across from me sat a young girl, not more than 17 or 18, excited that she had permission from her parents to do this, her little brother jealous that she got to be inside a military plane. Pretty thing, still working on outline, story plot, but already knowing the nuts and bolts of writing a novel. Excited exchanges with another twenty something young woman, who travelled the world because of her parents profession and was writing fantasy, fairy tales. Across from her, a man thinking about the lost art of meditation and how it affected the earth.
The knowledge, experiences combined in that plane were staggering. But more, the hope, the desire to make a contribution to the world, to evolve, was what I smelled, tasted in the tidbits of conversation.
We were like a mass of ooze in a high mountain lake, evolving, adapting, continuing this millennium old process of being.
I am glad I don’t have to have the answer to my question of what I will do with the words once the month is over. For some of us there is writing to do, a word count to achieve, for others to get through another day at work, a load of laundry, a day of staying alive.
Journeys don’t end, they become transitions to another journey, another phase of living.
The holidays are around the corner. What will your contribution be to your mountain lake?