As I was getting ready for bed last night I asked myself whether I had written at least five hundred words. I felt confident I had. When I sat down just now at desk E1S 059 to write these words I felt a mild disappointment when I discovered that was not the case. However, I also felt a sort of gentle thrill. A recognition that by sitting down and asking myself these questions I am making some progress towards making this something I do.
I am a person who makes time to write a few hundred words every day. They can be in any form, about the things I am doing and feeling, or perhaps a poem, verse or ideas which have occurred to me as I go about my life.
Writing feels like a useful skill both in what I do day to day which often involves writing things designed to be easily understood by those who read them. It is something I can do privately and publish. There is always so much to be written about as there are so many people and each has their own perspective on both themselves and the world around them.
One of the joys of being a person is to be able to read the things written by another person. To experience the echoes and shapes which we have, apparently in common, and to wonder at the alien, the unfamiliar, whether that be places, sounds and people we have never encountered ourselves.
This combination of the familiar and unfamiliar is critical. The former lends weight and a sense of recognisable reality to the latter. I think this is partly why Harry Potter works so well the close combination of a fantastic plot and circumstances right next to a story about going to school, making friends, and growing up in the most wonderfully normal and average way, even if the adventures those friends go on to have could not be less normal.
I have not written a haiku, an haiku? for years. It would be nice to write a couple of them now.
Listening
Journey with me, and
While we walk together, I
Will smile and listen
Claude
Alone in my room
I quietly speak my truth
To a dead machine
I should perhaps read some more haiku or read about them before I write any more. Or perhaps I shouldn’t. It was hard to avoid replacing the desire to express myself well with the desire to write something others would consider good or worth sharing should I choose to post them somewhere on social media.
I took a break in writing to talk to my colleagues as they arrived at the office. I was here first, which is unusual for me as I have been more than a little casual with my start times on this contract. That said, I felt a little spark of joy to drive myself to the office this morning, with another when I found my pass had been updated and I was able to access the car park without trouble.