Letting go of ideas when they were building momentum - or dropping the strings as it felt like in my frustration with a pile of unfinished symphonies - was an important part of their growth it would seem. From my point of view maybe there were just too many of them fighting for their turn. Maybe the surge was more than I could handle. But they had in fact embarked on journeys of their own
Letting go left me with a sense of wading - indefinitely it would seem - through a marsh in which they had all lost themselves. I just couldn't connect with them individually any more. Maybe I let go of them all in close proximity to one another. That's a fair bit of water mingling! Loss of momentum means a still pool. Still pools that don’t spring from deep beneath, fade into stagnant pools of old water. Not enough new inspiration means no new streams to nourish it, and that means the pool turns into marsh. Before you think I am headed in a negative direction, that was only about how I felt.
But looking more closely at what goes on, and with the detachment of distance, this is when transformative processes are activated, unnoticed. Marshes are replete with potential. A marsh forms a teeming ecosystem of a different sort. One that is often morbid and challenging to negotiate. Yet life thrives in a marsh. Meanwhile, the water filters its way down deeper layers of earth and finally emerges elsewhere, sometimes not far away, as a faint trace of fresh water.... renewed hope. New plants begin to grow nearby and around. The rains feed the trace and it turns into a new stream and starts to wander on its own journey. What's important is to let go and allow it all to work the way it's meant to.
Letting go left me with a sense of wading - indefinitely it would seem - through a marsh in which they had all lost themselves. I just couldn't connect with them individually any more. Maybe I let go of them all in close proximity to one another. That's a fair bit of water mingling! Loss of momentum means a still pool. Still pools that don’t spring from deep beneath, fade into stagnant pools of old water. Not enough new inspiration means no new streams to nourish it, and that means the pool turns into marsh. Before you think I am headed in a negative direction, that was only about how I felt.
But looking more closely at what goes on, and with the detachment of distance, this is when transformative processes are activated, unnoticed. Marshes are replete with potential. A marsh forms a teeming ecosystem of a different sort. One that is often morbid and challenging to negotiate. Yet life thrives in a marsh. Meanwhile, the water filters its way down deeper layers of earth and finally emerges elsewhere, sometimes not far away, as a faint trace of fresh water.... renewed hope. New plants begin to grow nearby and around. The rains feed the trace and it turns into a new stream and starts to wander on its own journey. What's important is to let go and allow it all to work the way it's meant to.
It seems to me my renewed creative stream is emerging. Where will this fresh meandering stream of writing lead me? Will it continue the broken journey, gathering the essence from these long-standing marsh-salts, refreshed with rain-water, charged with sunshine - and grow into a formidable river this time? From which, at the swollen womb of its sangam with other currents of other origins, it will split into slow, meandering Gangas, wide and surging Godavaris, rushing Krishnas and swirling Tungabhadras? Or an unexpected Daya that meets still water far more vast than her expectations and is home to far more secrets than she imagined. To be gently, unexpectedly engulfed by it and find a home and consummation in the mingling? And wait calmly for the mighty ocean to embrace their union?
A union of stories written, stories that reach an audience, stories that are read and have the power to transform?
I write .... and await!
A union of stories written, stories that reach an audience, stories that are read and have the power to transform?
I write .... and await!
This reminds me of "mud season" in Maine, that mucky and barren time in April which lasts a month (at least) and seems so unproductive and endless, but which gives rise to the glorious creation of lupine in June.
ReplyDeleteWe need to remind ourselves that there is important work carrying on, unseen by us. It's very easy to lose patience in this "mud season" but your comment below affirms the life giving power of mud!
DeleteYour marsh reminds me as well of the lotus. This exquisite symbol of purity and eternity has its roots deep in the mud; but that muck gives birth to a glorious blossom which waves above it on its slender stalk, so perfect that it is seen as an offering for the gods...
ReplyDeleteIndeed when you see the self cleansing power of the lotus leaf, you are left in wonder at another delightful paradox. "Muck" as you call it, compost that gardeners thrive on.
DeleteAnd we all await the stories from the teeming ecosystems :)
ReplyDeleteSridevi, the clear spring that turns up somewhere, is what nourishes a well. I've seen that when new houses come up in South India, a "water -diviner" is actually brought to decide exactly where the well is to be dug. It's interesting because in this marsh of ours in Kolkata, we find water all over the place, the pure and the murky all tending to mingle. Any water shortage is solely due to human greed and wasteful ways.
DeleteThis teeming ecosystem makes a person both creative and sluggish.
Amid this flood of ideas, one needs to pick the right one with care. To do this, one needs to turn to the desert and tune in to that water-diviner's vibes.
We come to understand where the water is fresh and clear and let it spring up within our soul. There will be a lot of stories. They are being lovingly crafted out of the chaos!
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ReplyDeleteMarshes also inspire me Maya, more so cause even though they are unpleasant to look at but sustain so much of treasure and richness hidden within them. It's the inner beauty that counts.
ReplyDeleteThe hope of an audience reading and helping them transform in any ways...my dream too :)
Will wait up for your stories to unfold and mesmerize many!
Ruchira comments like yours ignite the spark and I come out with more thoughts. Keep commenting. It is wonderful to have you here. There is a transformative power in the collective that we often underestimate. Let's tap this power to its fullest!
DeleteAnd equally do the readers transform the writer into a better and more inspired/inspiring writer :)
DeleteHow beautifully the words flow ! Like the pristine water , filtered by the marsh , percolates deep into the earth , layer by layer , the words sink in enchanting layer by enchanting layer .
ReplyDeleteLoved It totally . Let your pen keep moving , moving, moving ...
( vidya )
Vidya I am honored to have your words on this space. Your thoughts are crystal clear and your comment so encouraging. Gave me a big boost right now!
DeleteNice idea of a marsh here ! I like it. We just have to dig deeper what we think is barren may have the currents deep within like wells or maybe mines.. Sometimes I feel so..
ReplyDeleteYes - and sometimes we stumble unexpectedly upon treasure
DeleteYou just validated writing in such a perfect way!
ReplyDeleteYou express your thoughts so aptly - thank you Ashesh for your constant support!
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