Wednesday, February 21, 2018

Coffee, Cigarettes and Self-reflection

Photo by Ralph Crane

I have always loved this vintage photo of Lauren Becall by Ralph Crane. It reminds me of myself when I was in my 20s and still chain-smoking. The only thing missing is a notebook and pen. So many hours I sat with pen and paper, a cup of coffee and a cigarette hanging out of my mouth. You were just as likely to find me in a bar drinking coffee and writing rather than having an alcoholic beverage and talking to people. I have old order tickets, napkins and other random pieces of paper with whole poems or fragments I started.

The other day I was thinking about my old dream of singing (I have blogged about it here) and how, since I started this journey, my guides have told me to sing over and over. My thoughts wandered to my old dreams of wanting to be a successful singer and I thought to myself, "But I don't want to be on stage and it is no longer my dream."

And there was a realized "aha" moment.

And as I stood there in the kitchen making myself lunch and watching my hands do their work, I thought to myself, "But I already sing. I sing through my fingers with my words. My words are my song."

And that is the truth hidden in plain sight.

I love writing, but I stopped for many years. I used to write poems, lyrics, start stories, letters to friends and in my journal....but I stopped. I don't know how or why I stopped, but I did. And with the stopping, something in me felt like it died.

It took me 30 years to share my old poems with the world on my blog. I was proud of myself for taking that step because they always felt so personal and I wasn't ready back then to share such an inner part of me openly.

I didn't know if I would be able to write again the way I used to, but I just tried and I was pleased with the first attempt. 5 years later and it seems my song has come back and it is even stronger than before. I can easily look at a picture and start to hear words formulate that are inspired by what I images, art, and the things around me.

People have warned me that others might try to steal my work and my response is, "So." They have warned me that someone might attach their own name to my words and again I say, "So." I will not let fear keep me from sharing my creations with everyone who cares to read them. I share my words to provoke thought and feeling. I share them to put something beautiful out into the world. I put them out there because putting them out there is putting myself out there, which is the new open version of me. So what if someone attaches their names to my words? It doesn't matter. I don't even know who I really am at my core so even the name "Oktobre" is just a false identity.

Photo by Irving Penn

And what about all the money I could make if I were to write and publish books? Most of the information I share about my journey I would never charge for...ever...and the reason is because I think people are more important than profit. I think helping nudge humanity in a new direction is more important than making a buck on what I have to offer. I give my knowledge for free. Maybe it will resonate for some and help make their journey just a little easier than my own has been...which brings us one step closer to tipping the balance in favor of a heart centered society rather than a self centered one that focuses on division, survival and greed.

Would I like to be able to be comfortable for the time I have left here? That would be lovely, but it isn't what drives me. Maybe some day just the right musician will find me and want to put music to my poems and lyrics and together we can form a partnership we can mutually benefit from. To have music put with my words would be the absolute icing on the cake. If there is eventually money that comes with that, I wouldn't turn it down.

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