My First Piece of Writing

“Standing on a darkling plain

Shivering on a cold winters night

Watching the stars twinkle above me

Filled with sadness

Deep and Bright”

Kevin G. Farrell 1985 or 86

When I wrote that, it seems like a million years ago, I had just broken up with my first attempt at an adult romantic relationship. It was not purty and we should have never been together. It was a totally disfunctional and hurt filled attempt by two very wounded people.

And yet, my feelings were real. I had no idea how to quantify them, or identify them, and no tools to try to deal with them, and this writing above came out of it. That was real.

And so I kept stumbling thru life. Trying to be human and having no idea how to do this. Every once in a while a thing would happen and I would try to write about it. And would fail miserably.

I am related to some writers. My Great Grandfather on my Mothers side was a preacher. He wrote sermons all the time. My Great Aunt on my Mothers side is an accomplished writer who started out as a reporter and published many books. My Grandmother on my Mothers side was a Science Fiction author with several books and wrote many technical papers on various scientific subjects.

In school I never did home work. So I never really learned how to write the things that any school kid knows how to write.

My Grandmother used to tell a story about me when I was about 5 years old. I had a pencil and some paper and was trying to do something. And I was getting frustrated as being unable to do it. So I went to her and said "Leigh, (We called her by her name. Never Grandma or any of that) I am trying to write something and can't do it. Can I borrow your typewriter?"

So even at a young age I had the urge to express myself in written form. Just not the ability. It took an intolerable amount of anguish in order to write the poem at the beginning. And I have never been able to write a poetic piece since then.

It is in recovery that I began to learn how to write, how to tell a story. I am not an expert by any means. Yet there are lessons that I have learned about how to do this.

So several months ago I began to write this blog. I did not have any lofty ambitions. I just wanted to write some things. A couple of ideas already about some things, and most of it unknown to me. And there is no topic that I will leave alone. Thus the name of this blog.

"A Variety of Thoughts About Everything"

I believe that we all have a voice. An Art. Whether our voice comes out in the spoken or written word, drawing, painting, coding, designing, cooking, or the thousands of other ways our voices express themselves, we all have a voice.

And so many voices are stilled by our society. Either we shut them up because they are different, or we are afraid, or the many reasons that we justify I efforts to make the world "Normal" and thus a little less scary.

And then we get the ones who are stubborn enough to speak no matter what. Those whom we margenilize or dismiss and make "Other" in all the ways that we do that refuse to be silenced. These are usually, not always, the tortured souls who will create their Art no matter what. Because to not create would be the death of them.

Vincent Van Gogh. Robin Williams. Anthony Bourdain. Many others.

And then the fortunate few who are born with a voice and somehow are surrounded by people who will support that voice.

I am thinking specifically of an eight year girl that I know who is funny, adventurous, curious, and loves to draw. She is very fortunate to be supported by her Mother in being free to express her voice however she wants. I cannot imagine this young lady doing anything in her life that does not have her humour, sense of adventure, and curiosity built into it. No matter what this young lady does in her life she will be an artist.

We all have a voice. Our mission in this life is to find our voice and express our Truth to the world. Not the "Truth" that society wants us to believe. The Truth that resonates so deeply in our soul that it shapes everything about us and the world around us.

I also believe that in order for these voices to be true they must come from a place of Love. If it does not come from a place of Love then it is not really true.

For we must so Love each other that we are willing to Speak Truth even when our knees and voice shake and we are alone. We must Love each other so much that when we speak Truth and it is uncomfortable that we still speak that Truth from a place of Love.

For, with Love of us all from us all, then all things are Truly Possible.

We must Love each other. It is the only Rational act.