On Getting Back to Writing
This piece is a reimagining of Shullman’s Grocery—and about Fridays with my mother doing what we did every week-going to town.
Then I never thought much about it. I think about it now.
Grace
'“Grace is what matters, in anything, especially life, especially growth, tragedy, pain, love, death; about people, that's what matters. That is a quality that I admire very greatly. It keeps you from reaching for the gun too quickly. It keeps you from destroying things too foolishly. It sort of keeps you alive; and it keeps you open for more understanding.” Jeff Buckley
Back to what matters
I’ve missed my creativity. I’ve missed sitting here with pen in hand, filling a blank page — connecting to myself, being with me and all of the guardian spirits who surround me. It is sacred. It is holy. It is a place where I can be okay with being by myself physically, but never truly alone.
There is so much creativity in me that I’ve given freely, with no expectation. I can give it away or keep it all to myself, and I can decide when and with whom to share it.
This part of my journey into the depths, to shine new light on my soul, makes me grateful. But I have to go through the pain, the discomfort, the anger, and the resentments to feel this part of new life. They say that how long or how much we suffer is up to us—I disagree. It takes as long as it takes.
I think about those old sad songs that have carried me through and helped me process my emotions — I am grateful.
I look back on my life, and I am grateful.
For all the beautiful creative souls I’ve met along the way, I am grateful.
Seeing people create their lives, I am grateful.
I meditate and pray to be present in this moment. My prayer is to be grateful and not miss it.
The song about encouraging ourselves keeps coming to mind. Sometimes I have to be the coach of all the players in my head.
I share this and let it go into the universe — that is the gift of creativity, of gratitude, of grace: to pass it on.
Harper P. Gentry



