Writing exercise

After posting a few thing I wrote in years past on here, I thought maybe it was time to write something new.

Friday night after work, I wandered into Borders with my 30% off coupon and $5.00 off rewards thing eager to buy yet another book to my ever expanding collection of books. At first, I looked at the new books section. Nothing caught my eye. I walked upstairs and asked the bookseller behind the information desk when the Dido cd would be coming out. Not until November 18th. So much for that. I head over to the religion, philosophy, and psychology section. Again, nothing catches my eye....and frankly, I'm not in the mood to read psychology books seeing as I think about psychological things all day at work. I need an ESCAPE from work, not a reminder. A lightbulb goes off: creative writing. A short, older woman with glasses (a bookseller) is talking to a scholarly looking man who appears to be in his fifties in the History section. They converse for a few minutes, as I stand 8 feet behind them unnoticed for the next 5 minutes. When the woman realizes I need help, she hurries over and I ask her if they have a creative writing section because I cannot find it. We start to walk towards the section, a feeling of deja vu stirs within me of the days when I was the one leading the customer to their desired literary object. I notice she is pointing out 'writing style' and 'publication.' Did she not hear me when I said creative, not mechanics? As she is scrambling around trying to show me she was indeed listening (because creativity and mechanics of writing are apparently mixed in together, who knew?), there they are staring back at me. In all its creative glory, one of my inspiring muses from years past, Natalie Goldberg's books. Perfect! I had forgotten she had a new book out, one that couldn't be more apropos: "Old Friend From Far Away: The Practice of Writing Memoir." I scooped it up, trying to control myself from hugging the damn thing as if it were indeed an old friend whom I haven't seen in years.

What is the point of this anecdote, you wonder? Well dear reader, as part of my whole goal of getting the creative juices flowing and having more of a passion to write again after feeling a fizzle.....I am going to be brave with my creativity and try some of the writing suggestions from her book on my blog here. For fun, for reflection, and to get the proverbial ball rolling. It may sound great. It may even sound like crap. But at least I'm writing again. :)

With that said, here's the first one.....

Tell me what you will miss when you die.

How can one articulate into words the depth, the magnitude of the human experience of being alive? I don't even know where to begin, but here it goes. I will miss being holed up in my apartment on a rainy afternoon, listening to music that brings back memories from different times in my youth. I will miss the comfort of warmth, wearing my favorite sweater or wrapping myself up in my dark blue blanket that carries the lingering scent of me on it. I will miss the sounds and smells of coffee brewing in the still morning hours before the sun rises, the anticipation of that first sip when my lips touch the curve of the top of the mug. I will miss the feeling of being in a virtual postcard, walking amongst scattered autumn leaves along the sidewalks that look as if some technical stage crew in the sky poured them and let them fall in just the right way to perfect the concept of beauty. I will miss water filling in my eyes, being moved by any and all emotion: anger, sadness, joy, inspiration, fear, gratitude, empathy. I will miss holding a book in my hands, my eyes enveloping the contents. I will miss the rush of a new romance and the curiosity of the unknown. I will miss the musky scent of all the men I've been attracted to in my lifetime. I will miss being turned on by intelligent discourse. I will miss the unique and distinct laughter of all the 'favorite' people in my life. I will miss road trips to Michigan in the dead of winter when my body was numb from the frigid temperature, but I never felt more alive. I will miss spontaneity and surprising others, myself included. I will miss physical affection---intimate kissing, hugs, full body massages, sex. I will miss being comfortable in my own skin. Close friends, my parents, my teachers, my lovers, clients I really liked, cuddling with sweet dogs. And FOOD! Green bean casserole, Nicole's chocolate chip cookies, hankerings for avocados, Garcia's margaritas and off the wall (both the witty and the deep) conversations with my two favorite Chicago men. The excitement of having something to look forward to and the memories of all I've accomplished, where I've been. I will miss witnessing progress in the world, in humanity. I will miss photography. I will miss the kindness of strangers. I will miss flirting and being playful. I will miss inside jokes. I will miss the smell of seaweed and saltwater in the air, sand stuck between my toes underneath my socks after a hot summer day at a Florida beach. I will miss the hours of time it would take me to list the infinite number of things I will miss that my brain cannot think of in this moment.....which is to say, I will miss the experience of all that goes along with being a living human being in all its idiosyncracies.