To ‘Feel’ my Words is to Know Me

Here’s an autobiographical prose poem, by Christine, exclusively for Different Truths.

Did that thought linger in the wondrous imagination of that storyteller extraordinaire, Hans Christian Andersen? I think so.  

Could I even dream to entrance and enchant my readers as he could? I not only think NOT… I’m absolutely sure of it.  

But do I find writing irresistible anyway? I surely DO! Since I was a small girl? Most definitely!  

Did I still not believe in myself, and tuck my words away on a dusty back shelf for 30 years? I SO hate to admit this… but yes, I DID!?!

Yet here I am, creating some of my best work since my recent diagnosis with a primary lung cancer, Stage 4, due to some lymph involvement.  

When I stop and take time to look at this as unemotionally as possible, I can immediately see that — NO! That’s not quite right. I have actually been improving out of sight for the last couple of years.  

Perhaps I feel an extra special gratitude when I look around the world and the terrible toll the Covid 19 pandemic has been taking on SO many lives in SO many places in our world… when here in the SE of SA, we haven’t had a single case. Nonetheless, we’re wearing our masks again (due to rare cases in Adelaide and the new outbreak in other places of the Delta variant which experts report is twice as easily transmissible as the original virus, plus far more deadly), and we’re registering our movements everywhere we go, and hand sanitising – and other rules that come and go and return. Most of us are in accord with this, feeling it’s a small price to pay compared to the alternative. I, for one, could not handle another health issue of any description on top of the current load.  

BUT… back to the supreme blessing of my writing (as if I ever really leave it any more!). Currently, for mostly health and pain related reasons, I have found a wondrous distraction in stringing together my beloved words to make some lovely creations… some happy and full of dreams and plans; others wistful, poignant, thought-provoking; and on days when my ‘brave’ wears thin—out-and-out sad.  

Then my lung cancer diagnosis unexpectedly arrived, and the wheels began to turn in earnest — focusing on distraction from pain, plus the building of courage to make my own difficult choices about the handling of this disease. And they rolled… faster and faster. And my direction and determination solidified and became something I could hold onto when all I held dear seemed to be slipping away without my consultation, permission or volition.  

Until the moment arrived for my best wordsmithery to blossom. Whether anyone else agrees or not, it’s how I feel, and believe. And my shelter of solace is built, as the words flow, like music from a source that I alone can hear. I find such depths of joy and love in the expression of other artists, through their music, or painting, or amazing photographic captures. We have shared some of our expressions and together, find yet another way to express the beauty we see and hear… and feel in the depths of our souls.  

Other precious folk have shared their joy with me… sharing that my words have enabled them to express love and gratitude and forgiveness (especially of themselves) for the first time in their lives; and begin their own first stumbling steps on the road that points to — Writerland… a piece of Heaven right here on Earth.  

I’m thinking the one thing I definitely ‘mirror’ of the great Hans Christian’s inimitable words is an addiction to sharing love with whomever of the world has the time to really listen.   I smile at him across a century or two.   Dreams are timeless.

Visual by the poet

Image by Angeline from Pixabay
Title and poem excerpt by Christine Larsen, author.