BlogHer - introspection - Comments

Here is a story I wrote...

Heresyman — Thu, 23 Aug 2007 15:48:00 -0500

It could never happen to me… that was what I thought. Twelve hours ago I was told I was to lose my arms. I knew the storm was bad, and at times it DID seem futile to keep rowing. Regardless, the slave masters cracked their whips and tell us our life DEPENDS on it. Is it ours collectively, or just theirs? I wonder.

My right arm was first to go. It was a good, strong, useful arm… which I was forced to place into the machine. It was quickly and painfully ripped out of the socket. Pain shocked me through the heart, cutting deeply into my very soul. The lifeless arm was unceremoniously cast overboard… “We’ve got to lighten the load”, I was told. As the gravity of my situation was still sinking in, I wasn’t even allowed time to stay the blood flow with my left arm. It had to go too. It hurt no less than the first… God… isn’t shock supposed to lessen the pain?

I was allowed to bid my limbs goodbye as they were cast overboard. “Try not to let the others notice until it is their turn”, they tell me, “let’s keep it quiet and dignified.” God, how can my heart keep beating when it hurts so badly? As I watch my lifeless limbs float into the distance, I can’t help think that they didn’t really weigh THAT much.

The other slaves in the galley try not to notice my two bloody stumps… in fact; some are already nursing their own wounds. While taking in the carnage, I notice a few of the slaves who seem unscathed and overweight… but whom am I to judge? I took my seat to continue rowing… as the drums started thrumming the new cadence; salt is rubbed in my wounds. I am told to get up and help move the heavy gold ornaments into the captain’s quarters, and hang them on the wall. I am chided for getting blood on them. That is where they belong, I am told, since his decision saved us all.

As I returned to my rightful place, pain once again shot to my very soul. I looked overboard at the shark frenzied waters and wondered if it would be better to swim for it. I fell rather than sat, my head swooned and I numbly looked at the oar. How the hell was I supposed to grip it with no arms? I thought I could try using my teeth, but the wood is too big and hard. I assumed a strap would be added so I would have something to grab on to when the new seating arrangement was announced. I looked down at the water lapping at my bare feet… it felt strangely thick and warm. It was awful red and deep… a pretty good incentive.
Question EVERYTHING!

Angela, so wonderful to meet you!

Birdie Jaworski — Tue, 14 Aug 2007 22:52:53 -0500

Thank you so kindly for reading my column and leaving a beautiful footprint. I look forward to getting to know you. I'll be sure to check out your sites, too. :)

Birdie
Birdie's BlogHer Blog
La Pajaro

Patia, you have greatness in you

Birdie Jaworski — Tue, 14 Aug 2007 22:51:32 -0500

Patia, even when you write small things I am always surprised. You are destined for something Big Time with your writing. I just know it. And after hanging out with you in Chicago, I know it FOR SURE!!! Hey, I miss you!

Birdie
Birdie's BlogHer Blog
La Pajaro

Also, I should note for the rest of you...

Birdie Jaworski — Tue, 14 Aug 2007 22:49:42 -0500

Stever is my dear friend going back some years. Pre-blogging friend! Yay!

Birdie
Birdie's BlogHer Blog
La Pajaro

Stever, what a great analogy

Birdie Jaworski — Tue, 14 Aug 2007 22:48:37 -0500

That's exactly how it feels, too, even though the writing is not Life and Death (well, perhaps it is), there is an urgency that is there when the words are good. When they are not so good, it is fighting a bad current, a riptide.

I'm so glad you're here. I know I have told you this, but I need to tell you again. I like having the male energy around to balance the rest of us, plus you always make me question everything (trademark).

Birdie
Birdie's BlogHer Blog
La Pajaro

Lia, I got your homework, and you are GOOD

Birdie Jaworski — Tue, 14 Aug 2007 22:42:32 -0500

Lia, I'm going to feature you in my next Words in a Row article, to be posted right away. (I'm having trouble with the BlogHer posting interface still, it's improving for me, but I'm waiting for a call in to Denise.) I'm so glad you are a big part of this, I couldn't imagine it without you.

Birdie
Birdie's BlogHer Blog
La Pajaro

Thank you, Birdie. I

Angela Chen Shui — Tue, 14 Aug 2007 10:29:01 -0500

Thank you, Birdie. I enjoyed my first visit to your space here on BlogHer and will be back. Thanks especially for this:

"I hope I never forget to breathe. "

Just this morning a girlfriend and I were reminding each other of how important the breathing with Self and with Life is....

Blessings...

"Angela's Voice"
Spirituality Information Self Help
Internet Home Based Business Training

Lovely

cowgrrrl — Mon, 13 Aug 2007 19:01:26 -0500

As always.

I don't believe in writer's block, or at least, I don't believe that's what I have. The words are there, like seeds, just waiting for the right combination of sun and silence. The soil is fertile, anyway. That much I know.

A Drivel Runs Through It

Sound advice...

Heresyman — Mon, 13 Aug 2007 14:31:34 -0500

... as expected.

It reminds me of stories I hear from pilots who were in a tailspin... or of swimming in riptides. If you fight it... you will likely die. If you just let go for a bit... you will get to a place easier to manage.

Thanks for always sharing, Birdie.

Lightness of Being

Lia — Mon, 13 Aug 2007 12:51:53 -0500

What a wonderful story and writing lesson. I've sent you my stories and homework and hope they arrived as bottle post in the virtual seas. Is there any chance we could make this a yearly tradition?

Just wanted to thank you for your kind spirit and generous efforts.

lia from luebeck, germany

Author of the yum yum cafe and coauthor of the Red Tent Blog.

Cary, you are always so kind

Birdie Jaworski — Mon, 13 Aug 2007 12:00:46 -0500

You're right, too, that just as we need to rest and let our words find the right moment, we need to let our minds, hearts, arms and legs do the same. I have lived here for two years and never visited the cemetery. When I did, it was a marvel. If I didn't stop to talk to my neighbors, to sell cupcakes at the flea market, to notice my dad's ashes, my dog, I can't imagine how constricted I would be. I hope I never forget to breathe. BirdieBirdie's BlogHer Blog La Pajaro

Virginia, I LOVE your 50 Word ideas!

Birdie Jaworski — Mon, 13 Aug 2007 11:58:01 -0500

... and I have to admit in kind that I haven't done as many of them as I would like, but I read them and they make me think. : ) Now, I must make a trip down to your place for the next writer's gathering. I'll have to check out the schedule.

BirdieBirdie's BlogHer Blog La Pajaro

thanks, milife :)

Birdie Jaworski — Mon, 13 Aug 2007 11:56:00 -0500

I'm glad you enjoyed it. The cemetery itself deserves a much longer story. In fact, that was the story I intended to tell, but realized I needed to give my dad's ashes a silent voice, as well as the broken leg. They needed it more than the cemetery did.

Birdie

Birdie's BlogHer Blog

La Pajaro

This Is...

Cary — Mon, 13 Aug 2007 11:36:37 -0500

...every bit as much a "life lesson" as a writing lesson, Birdie. We all need to take time to rest and regard the world through un-harried eyes. The inspiration and the beauty is out there, but we're sure to miss it in our rush to the subway, or the kids' next soccer game, or the "urgent" client session. Thank you for this very valuable reminder!

Thanks!

Virginia DeBolt — Mon, 13 Aug 2007 07:36:26 -0500

Your posts always make my day. I'm not making time to put down more than the first 50 words of creativity amid all the technical stuff I'm busy doing each day, but I do love to read your efforts.

http://www.webteacher.ws/
http://first50.wordpress.com/