Sometimes someone can say something to you, and it strikes a chord of annoyance. This happened tonight. Add to that the sadness I was caught up in from a television show and I find myself in the midst of a stirred up next of mental snakes. Sometimes to whittle them out I type, just open my mind and let my brain talk through my fingers – journeying, otherwise known as journaling. What comes out never cease to amaze me, and tonight was no exception.
Imagine if you will two paintings hung in a gallery. In the first the sun is shining and an old man and woman sit rocking in wooden white spindled rocking chairs on the veranda of a white clap board house. Both look straight ahead, but looking closer you see their fingertips touch. There’s serenity in their expressions, obviously happy and content in each other’s company. Walk along the wall where that painting is hung and you will see another. It’s the same house but much of the paint has gone, and what little bit remains is tarnished, cracked and badly peeling. The bare wood on the side of the house faded to a dark dingy gray long ago, and the veranda looks weak and warped. The same two rocking chairs are empty. They look as though they would crumble beneath the weight of anyone daring enough to sit in them. The old couple is nowhere to be seen and it’s obvious the home was abandoned long ago.
Along the bottom of the second painting you notice a date, June 12, 2030 and beside it the word ‘after’. Then it occurs to you. Backtracking to the first painting you confirm what you had barely noticed in the first painting. It has a date is also painted along the bottom. It’s the same as the other painting, June 12, 2030 but the word beside it is ‘before’. How is it they both have the same date in opposite circumstances? There is no way a house could deteriorate that much in one day. After some time you turn away from the paintings and come face to face with an elderly woman. She’s the woman who was sitting in one of the rocking chairs of that first painting! She realizes you’re staring and gives you a warm smile. ‘Isn’t it amazing how much destruction can come when love goes awry?’ she says before she turns and walks away.
Now the above story is not real, but something that poured through my typing fingers. What I understand most is the second painting, but what this story means could be debated until the cows come home. Where some creatively express in other ways, I do it through writing, and I like the imagery this piece creates. More than that, I like the calmness and smile of the older woman before she spoke and walked away. In her I sense peace and confidence.
If you just let your fingers do the talking, what imagery would you create, and what scenario could you show your peace with?