Twaddle

How I wish I were a real writer. So many times I see something that may be ordinary, but I experience it as something so wonderful that I want to convey that experience to others, but I can’t always translate it into words. Yesterday, as I was sitting on my dock watching the turtles and fish, I had such a strong desire to paint it all with words so that you can see what I saw. I wanted to write about the grace of the turtle as it glides through the water, the curiosity of one as it eyes me, swimming closer to check out this odd creature sitting on top of the water, or others that dive down as soon as our eyes meet. To document the antics of fish as they take the food, some slow and easy, others attacking and fleeing as if they know that food put out by humans maybe attached to long strings that take them away. I want you to feel the cool breeze blowing across my arm, hear the music of nature, be filled with the emotions that envelope my mind as I look around me. I want to write of the colors of the sky and the water. I especially want to describe the water. The little ripple currents, the reflections of the sky, the bubbles trailing up from the bottom, so you can see, and experience it just as I do.

I just don’t know the words that can evoke what I feel inside. How do I describe the feeling of joy, wonder and enrichment that permeates my soul as I sit on the dock, eyes glued to the activity around me that I cannot predict or control? What words would let you see through my eyes as I watch a teeny tiny lizard scamper along the leaves next to me, to let you feel the wonder of the web spun by the giant garden spider in my carport, to feel the contentment of two little dogs cuddled on either side of me?

I want you to know the expanse of emotions I experience every day; the good things along with the fear and pain of living with cancer. I can put into simple words some of the things in my life, how grateful I feel for all I’ve had and how disappointed I am that there are things I will never have or do. I can describe some incidents, but can it give you a true sense of the fullness of the emotions connected to these experiences? Real writers could describe on paper (or on screen) the joy and pain, both physical and emotional, that curses through my body so that any insights I realize you will realize also. A real writer could gift to the reader a fuller experience. Let you really feel the joy, see the wonder and, yes, live the fear. But when I try to put it down, I get lost in the words. What I see in my mind’s eye, or feel in my heart just doesn’t spell out. It is not that I want to make you feel sorry for me, or see some kind of strength in living with cancer, it is just I don’t want these experiences, these insights, to lay alone in my head. Of course what I perceive as an astounding insight into the universe we all share may simply be twaddle that means nothing to anyone but me. (I did learn a new word: twaddle, meaning insignificant nonsense as found in Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary) But even if twaddle, a real writer could put it in a way so that it is easy to make sense of and give it meaning… So since it is me writing this, and not a real writer, your job is harder as you muddle through and try to find the meaning in my tangle of words and sentences. For that, I apologize, but for the twaddle, well, indulge me this one pretense at offering some words of value as I share my thoughts and experiences.