Serenity.  One can close one’s eyes and sway gently as a soft melody plays, memories of dancing close to someone whose heartbeat you can feel.  It’s that feeling when things seem to make sense… although I will admit that for me, this moment does not come around as often as it used to.  I lost a lot of confidence with the passing of my wife, and it is confidence which brings forth serenity… when one is confident in the world, their skin, their purpose, their path, their relations… I could go on forever. 

Still, I am fortunate in that I can still find serenity in words.

Not just any words, however.  Rather words strung together with purpose and feeling.  Words which lead the mind to leap forward.  Words which massage an emotion, so gently at first, then with a passion that most reserve for lovers. 

I have found over the years that for me, serenity in words does not come from reading other people’s work, but rather from playing with the language myself.  It is always more fulfilling to get one’s fingers dirty than to admire someone else’s flowers.  The same can be said of creating with words.

The trick is in walking a fine balance between what you know works and what lies just out of reach.  It’s in reaching that we discover.  It’s in experimenting that we grow.  And it is then that we learn just a little bit more about ourselves.

I’ve always found this to be a very peaceful experience, despite what is sometimes a difficult subject matter.  It’s like the artist who does not concentrate on the subject, but rather the brush stroke… the texture of the paint… the flick of a wrist… the way the light bounces off of the canvas… anything to avoid a tear or pang of guilt.  It is far too easy to let oneself become drawn in by the subject matter and therein lies truth.

Better just to find serenity in words.

(visit this site for information on the wonderful piece I used for this editorial.)

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