The Book of One Thousand Beginnings : Dana : Final Paragraph

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I took a photograph of her , her mouth wide open when a bird hit the window , a messenger from across the species divide . It lies on the grass before me and my dead mother . A flying creature , knowing things I do not , a divine emissary . Do I share kinship with this one who mimics my speech , my sobs ? Just who is guided by this passerine bird to this room of death , this pale room of my mothers end . And what will they do with her remains , the Christ-like stillness of her body , a body of delicate white bones , a body dead with skin like that fish I once saw aglow , not yet cold , blue moving with fog across waters of the Great Lake . Flowers are everywhere in this place , messages , repeated words on cards , ribbons caught in the air of a musky smell from life’s underbelly . I remember my brother once shooting a songbird out of its nest with his Daisy B-B gun and wonder when will he be here . I want to embalm my misunderstood mother and this raven together and watch them be mummified in beeswax and honey . But I know it will not be allowed . In what corner of my mind are my dead mothers poems hidden ? I cannot capture everything or anything with words any more …

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Personal note : I have been lost in my story , words and more words , editing and cutting until only the ending above remains . I can’t find the plot anymore . Writing has become the long , long dance with music that refuses to end , even without any lyrics … but alas , I’m rather tired of searching for that plot . . .

Thank you , each of my friends for following and for always encouraging with your kind comments and inspiring hearts …it matters so very much …


40 thoughts on “The Book of One Thousand Beginnings : Dana : Final Paragraph

    • So sweet of you Carol , thank you so much …I posted a new video for you and my friends here as I’m left rather speechless at the intensely meaningful comment thread …love and hugs , megxxx

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  1. Your final paragraph is very beautiful Meg, more than befitting the many beautiful others that preceded it, if they only fleetingly so. I am a neophyte writer myself, and if there is anything at all that I have learned so far, it is that the art requires diligent and earnest practice before we can hope to offer the world a cohesive whole worthy of those others’ attention. A blog seems the perfect medium to hone our skills, not a place to flesh-out anything more than the shortest of stories, or concise essays. Yet the worth of these practices is surely immeasurable, and whilst we may remain mildly obsessed with notions of completed works and publishing, it is in the learning that we ourselves develop, not just as writers, but as sensitive and open-hearted beings. And so it is that I wonder to myself, what could be more important than that? H ❤

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  2. Hi Meg,

    I want to echo first what Hariod has said so well… The very act of writing moves things around within us– it reveals, suggests and inspires… Your writing feels to me like dropping a periscope down into your heart’s majestic landscapes, and translating what you see for us. I feel fortunate to have found my way here, Meg, to witness these glimpses so artfully shared, and to partake of the beauty that you offer. I think there is a plot here, and in fact it bleeds across the boundaries of the page and into the world we inhabit together… It has taken root in me and the other readers here. It is bigger than any of us can capture with words anymore… and it has lifted our eyes to the presence of tenderness and light in the world around us…

    Love
    Michael

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  3. Take heart, Megan. And if I may share some very helpful advice that I was given while I was writing my first novel and worrying over process and publishing, and what would happen next: Don’t think about the other things. Just write the damn book.
    So, Megan, listen: Just write the damn book.
    Cheerfully,
    Jan

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  4. Ah! Meg! Look what you have inspired! I have to believe, and I think it may make sense for you also, that every step we take…no matter how tiny…no matter how tortured…is a step that is needed. I understand exactly what you are saying…I have been all over the place with my writing…and I know there is a book that I will write…and every time I start there are twists and turns…and eventually I get so confused, yet there is still a KNOWING that it is t.h.e.r.e. I have to believe that the window to the soul will open a little more each day and that there will be understanding. Hariod and Michael’s comments are incredibly telling. Many blessings to you…stay true to your soul ❤ ❤

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  5. Dearest Meg…I know that place of endings, where there is no more. Yet your creative spirit is so immensely huge, I know it will bubble up again, some time, in some way. First I knew your creativity through your art, and the handmade clothes that inspired me so much… and then your writing which carried me to so many places it was stunning and almost unbelievable how you could spin your tales. Time after time I would sit and read in utter amazement at the weavings of the hidden, the earthly, the places of love, of mystery, the dark, the light, and whimsical, like Baby Blue, nature, and so much more…I greatly admire all the pieces you’ve written, your courage to share exactly what came pouring through without letting the inner editor whittle it away to make it all “nice”, as writer Natalie Goldberg warns us to not do. And the wondrous pairing of the photography with the words, arresting me at every turn, and the music too… it’s been incredible, Meg, truly, and I have been enriched deeply by you and these outpourings. It’s been such a pleasure to have traveled thus far with you. And what a beautiful and heartfelt piece to end with… my love goes with you, always!

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      • Oh yes, it amazes me to have such a connection and to have only met on several occasions… these soul connections are such a gift in our lives, as you too are, dearest friend of the heart. Meeting you and your mom have meant so much to me. Truly, beyond what words can convey. ❤

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    • Dear beautiful one who remains with me always ….Janet , I’m not done writing , I don’t think I’ll ever be as the urge is so strong …your encouragement is utterly selfless , thank you …I posted a new video for you and others here , it’s one Denise played for me many years ago …love and hugs , megxxx

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  6. Mom, what is a story, a book, a blog, a poem, a photo, a piece of art, or music? Perhaps it is simply our expressions of emotions (AND LOVE) from the depths inside us. Yours runs deep and wide like the water in the ocean and equally small and concise, like a flower petal floating upon! ❤

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    • Honey …you are more beautiful than anything …love , your mama ( I posted a new video at end of post for all friends here as I’m left speechless at the sharing of these comments …Sigur Ros ! Who You introduced me too !

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  7. Meg reading your words are often like travelling in a Labyrinth filled with the magical and mystical. They are filled with sparks of Light and rainbows that take you upon a journey of joys and laugher.. And then you present us with the shadows-lands of deep thoughts of hurts and pain..

    I never tire of your writing and will admit I do not always understand the complexity of your thoughts.. But that does not take away the skills you have to take your reader deeper into the imagination of which your creative skills deliver with such expertise

    Thank you for sharing this final Paragraph.. ❤ Hugs Sue xxx

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