Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Once you see it, then you don’t – MANN

Over the last few weeks, we’ve had many occasions in Ontario to view on the walk, in the newspapers, through the television camera or on Internet. Certainly, the G8 Summit in Huntsville along with the G 20 Toronto Summit, then quick flashes of Queen Elizabeth on her walk-about, the announcement of David Johnston’s appointment of Governor General, along with various parades and carnivals have kept the geographical area under the media’s eye. I no sooner saw the Queen chatting with the people and accepting flowers then she was gone. But, it’s like that with most things—you wish you just had a few more minutes to enjoy the moment and you find yourself being thankful for small mercies.

Recently I’ve had a few experiences like that in my writing life. Just last week, I hurriedly began to write a thought, explaining, defining and developing an unforgettable concept, and then for a fleeting moment, something different filtered into my mind and caught my attention. I regretfully listened to my inner voice and said, “Oh, you’ll remember that,” or “That’s a good one, but press on.” Therefore, I returned to my great scheme of things watching ‘the good one that I’m sure to remember,’ fade away into the recesses of my mind avoiding recovery. A frustrating feeling arrested me, left me helpless, regretful and almost ready to kill just to capture that significant thought once more. The memory of that one reflection almost captured, reminded me of its absolute potential of taking my story to the editor’s desk.

I walked, sat, extended my hands with palms out to limit anything else that would dare intrude into my private mental space and I waited. I promised, I pledged, I bargained—anything to get my mind to back track.

And then my cat walked across my computer keyboard and by accident or canine appointment, saved my document into cyberspace by stepping on just the right progression of keys. I didn’t have to wait for that thought—I had no place to put it.

After I got over the shock, I began the task again and was able to finish the piece without much difficulty. This was of course after gently positioning the cat in the windowsill rather than in her favourite position of sprawling across my desk with her tail hanging across the keyboard. Nicely arranged thoughts began to fall into place quickly and with ease ready for its first edit—and even with a much shorter word-count. Now, I find myself definitely feeling thankful for this small mercy.

Check out Take Time to Make Memories; WinterGrief; Aggie's Storms at Alibris Books
2nd in the Aggie's series launching in September: Aggie's Dream (The Brucedale Press)

1 comment:

Peter Black said...

You've clearly described the thoughts and feelings that in recent years have become par for my course, as far as the fleeting glimpse of something grand that so quickly vanishes away, is concerned. Ah, but it's at least a little comforting to be reminded that one is not alone! :)
Now, the cat ... Hmm. "Gerroffathere, you pesky feline nuisance!" might be more like my tack. (But you are so kind.)
I felt your relief when everything fell into place in the end. Isn't redemption a marvellous thing!

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