Mt. Everest Grows Feet
...Or it's a poet thing
It’s Tuesday and it brings 5,689,000,000 things to do, say, think, see, try, buy, eat, hear, wear or not do, say, think, try, buy, eat, hear, wear today. Basically, they fall into categories like fear as in scary things you must avoid/prevent, or scary things you couldn’t avoid/prevent.
For example, I’ve only been up two minutes and I’m already faced with my first big choice. Should I click: Cop on the Beat is a Bot or Catfish Finds Love on the Internet or Mt. Everest Moves an Inch or Mt. Everest Moves Three Feet. I didn’t know mountains had feet. Or I could click Seaweed that Tastes like Bacon and Is Healthier Than Kale. As opposed to Seaweed that Tastes like Seaweed, which is a line no one would click.
But I meant to talk about words. Especially verbs. In my first life, verbs meant something. Someone didn’t just walk, they sauntered or skipped or sprinted or slid in a door. That’s a poet thing. They gathered themselves into a chair, whatever that means, or unfolded themselves out of a chair, or folded themselves into a corner or out of a bed. They shimmied or shimmered across the floor and placed themselves in the Cloud.
One day, my words refused to go where I thought they were going or end where I wanted them to end. That was the last day of my first life, which was built on breath and heart and soul and words. Everything fell out of place. But I didn’t take No for an answer from me. Instead I decided it takes the right person, at the right time, to do what doctors thought couldn’t be done and I decided I better be that person.
It also takes the right person, at the right time, or the wrong person, at the wrong time, to make what previously would have seemed impossible the law of the land.
Sometimes things fall out of place. This, too, is good or bad depending on your point of view. Or points of view if you have more than one. Like I do at times. This brings me to spider silk. Spider silk is stronger than steel. It assembles itself. Stacks don’t. But I keep keeping on.
Okay - your fun writing and amazing resiliency broke down my resistance to your quirky way of telling your story - really interesting! I subscribed to your feed (my first paid subscription) and wrote a note (I wish I understood what notes are and how they appear to others - I think I saw a substack recently about how to use notes - I need to look that up) - now that I'm a paid subscriber I am hoping you keep up the insightful writing - does it ever occur to you that maybe you have gotten back a relatively decent portion of your writing brain? (ooh I am also checking the box "also share as note" - what does it all mean?)
I am so grateful to you for your words.