Not every sprout can grow

When I attended ritual for the first new moon after the vernal equinox, we blessed (and planted) seeds. The ritual leader went on at length about the fact that not every seed could be allowed to grow into a full plant, that not every promise of spring can bear fruit. I immediately tensed up -- how dare he say I can't do everything I want to do! -- but I quickly moved on to enjoy the rest of the ritual. I brought my seeds home through the misty rain, and three of them sprouted, though two have since shriveled up and died (I forgot to water them), thus leaving me with one little seedling whom I am tenderly shepherding along. I'm not even sure what kind of plant I am rearing up, as the seeds were a mix of oregano and thyme, but I am determined to see that s/he get there!

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The summer session is starting soon at the adult education center in my area. I took a voice class this past semester (and loved it, but that's another post entirely), and promised myself that I would take a writing class this summer. The last month has seen me agonizing over what to take. The fact is, I am terrified to sign up for a writing class. Why can't I take a nice class in multi-media journaling, for instance? That would so much less pressure, and I don't want to deal with pressure right now. And I really would love to learn how to keep journals with more than just a written component; I've spent so many lunch breaks gazing at the brilliant colors of spring and wishing that I could capture them somehow!

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July 9, 2007

It is easier for me to craft than write because it is not as important to me, and thus less serious. The risk is less in a collage than a poem, because one is a hobby, the other.... a calling.

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While sitting outside and eating my tuna salad wrap with cucumbers and honey mustard today, one thought kept buzzing around me, and no matter how hard I tried to push it away from my ear, it kept coming back. So I gave it some attention and wrote it down in the notebook I carry in my backpack (yet so rarely write in). Not every sprout can grow. What will I nurture? I realized that I need to nurture writing. It's too important for me to keep setting it aside for other interests. I have enough other passions that, unless I take conscious steps to do otherwise, I will be able to push writing aside until I find myself on my deathbed and it is finally too late. I can't let that happen.

I will take two short writing classes this summer (a one day intensive and a class that only meets twice) to get myself started writing again. I need the support and motivation and inspiration of that outside agency to get going. And in the fall, I will take a full semester long writing class. My other interests will keep; it's time to do what I know needs to be done if I'm ever to feel truly purposeful.

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My goal here, on this blog, has always been to write honest prose about my personal experience as a pagan, whatever that may mean. I have wanted to communicate my personal experience in a form close to that of the personal essay, but in this informal medium. I'm not sure how successful I have been, but this guest post on The Wild Hunt Blog inspires me to want to redouble my efforts. If I can ever achieve what she describes, I will be truly blessed. As I feel I am whenever I read someone else's attempts at the same.