I’m in a comtemplative mood today. While I did my NaHo cleaning today, I listened to Cat Stevens. What can I say? The T-Mobile commercials got to me. I had quite a crush on Cat in the 70’s. (And for those of you who’ve read Brevity visualize that era Cat Stevens as Renee’s Demetrios, and a good bit of Jalal too.) But back to contemplation.
When I listen to any music that I love (and I have quite a range of faves) it’s like a B-12 shot for my creative soul. I suppose that’s how we choose our favorites songs and artists, eh? So my Cat Stevens compilation DVD was set on repeat and my mind drifted along as I listened and worked. And then, suddenly I tuned back in. “Sitting” is a song I’ve heard countless times, including three times today before it got my attention, but something about it slapped me the fourth time. To be exact it was this part of the lyric:
Now I’m not making love to anyone’s wishes,
Only for that light I see
‘Cause when I’m dead and lowered low in my grave,
That’s gonna be the only thing that’s left of me
I don’t know what Cat meant when he wrote those words. I only know what I felt when I heard them. Sometimes I forget why I write. Sometimes I get so focused on publication that I feel desperate. Sometimes I lose sight of the true goal. The written word is a means of communication. Plain and simple.
I don’t mean that all written word should be life-changing, of course. My novel The Brevity of Roses, is just a story I want to share. The story won’t solve any of the world’s problems. It most likely won’t solve any of your personal problems. But it might take you away to a lovely place for a while.
And that’s the light I see. That’s why I write.