Drink And Be Filled Up

Every morning I wake up early to have my coffee and watch the sun rise. I love the quiet and solitude early morning brings to me. Everything around me is so peaceful and I get so caught up in it. And it is then at that moment that I realize how beautiful everything around me is and that I have to find my way back to life.

Lately I have been trying to find myself. For as long as I remember I was in this partnership with my significant other. We were a team for over thirty five years. We did things together outside our family and circle of friends. Mainly we went to book signings, art exhibitions, met with new writers and artists…

We belonged to the art and literary world of the country we lived in. Even when we were in Beirut during the civil war, we never missed a cultural event, whether it was a poetry reading at the German cultural centre or a reading at the British Council or an art exhibition anywhere in the city. Later we became members of different artistic and literary circles in Dubai as well as here in Montreal too. And in that world, the world of art and literature, we complemented and completed each other.

And I miss that world the most. I find it hard to continue those activities alone. I so want to be part of that world again even though I know it will never be the same again for me and my heart aches so much.

The other day a friend told me that I should get out of my solitude and go out in the sun for a change because I ‘looked pale’.

I didn’t tell her that at this point in my life I want to be alone with my emotions. I want to take the time to come to terms with my loss no matter how long it takes for me to do so. I didn’t tell her that I love my morning solitudes. Because that’s when I write. And when I write I know I am not alone. I know I am always somewhere with my writing. Because writing makes my world and my life a better and a more pleasant place. Because writing in the words of Stephen King:

“Writing isn’t about making money, getting famous, getting dates, getting laid, or making friends. In the end, it’s about enriching the lives of those who will read your work, and enriching your own life, as well. It’s about getting up, getting well, and getting over.
Writing is a permission slip: you can, you should, and if you’re brave enough to start, you will. Writing is magic, as much the water of life as any other creative art. The water is free. So drink.
Drink and be filled up.”



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