Friday, April 11, 2014

Word Paint: The inside-outside connundrum

photo credit


"Can you be inside and outside at the same time?
I think this is where I live.
I think this is where most women live.
I think this is where writers live.
Inside to write. Outside to glean."
~ Terry Tempest Williams*

Paint me a picture, I say to myself, of this tension of inside-outside living. So my pen becomes a paintbrush and I dip it in the colors of memory, splashing across a canvas of blank white page.

I am inside and outside, a woman on both sides of the looking glass.


* * * * *

I call myself a writer, most of the time, with varying degrees of confident assurance. I have a blog, where I air my words and my heart, one to three times a week. I surround myself with good books that inspire me in the craft. I have a group of writer friends who make me believe, at times I can soar on the wings of their prose, and maybe even on the wings of my own.

I am inside.

I hold my tongue, refuse to say this is who I am, because I am just not convinced. Maybe I got it all wrong. Maybe this is the last remaining, tattered shred of youthful idealism I'm clinging to and I need to let it go. How could I ever think I'm a writer?

I am outside.

* * * * *

I am inside the church where we worship on Sundays. Where we stand, sit, kneel, sing, speak, listen and hold the silence of liturgy. I am surrounded by people, many whom I don't know, some whom I call "community." We feast together at the table of communion, we share the same creeds of faith. We love the same Jesus.

I am inside.

I look up at the landscape of the front of the church sanctuary. Men leading us in worship through instruments and song. Men serving the bread and the wine. Men praying the prayers. Men preaching the sacred word. I feel silenced, disappearing in the pew.

I am outside.
* * * * *

I wear a wedding band, possess a certificate of marriage. We share the same address, the same car, the same bed, the same last name. We're gradually crossing over for each other without losing sight of ourselves. He's immersed in my culture and I in his.

I am inside.

We coexist, side by side. We give affection and we withhold. We sleep with a wall of fear, of silence, of weariness, of distant longing between us. I inhabit a place of hope deferred.

I am outside.
* * * * * 

I wrap arms around her and she buries tears in my shoulder. Our hearts are locked together in the ache of sorrow. She has walked through valleys of loss with me, and now, I set out with her. I would do anything to take this pain away.

I am inside.

I am not a mother. I've never conceived life, never waited through months of expectancy, nor delivered life into this world. I've never seen my body stretch to make room for another. I've never grieved a womb that was inhabited, now empty. I do not know this agony.

I am outside.

* * * * * 

I am breathing in rain-soaked air, heavy with cherry blossom fragrance. I am walking, running, standing still, listening to the songs of birds and the symphony of life that arises in my silent wonder. I am drinking in sunsets. I am inhabiting moments of beauty, moments of bravery, moments of failure, moments of being known, moments of loneliness.

I am outside.

I come inside, close the door, and set my hand to write, transferring words from head to hand, my paint across the canvas.

* * * * * 

Joining Lisa Jo and the community of Five-minute Friday writers, to the prompt of "Paint."  This was NOT a five minute post, just FYI.

Linking up, also, with Nacole Simmons at Six in the Sticks, for a reflection on issues we face as writers.

 * I originally attributed this quote to Ann Patchett, but as I'm reading both authors at the same time, I got them mixed up! They're both brilliant women, by the way, worth reading...


14 comments:

  1. So beautifully written, and so happy to have found you through FMF. Thank you for your transparency, honesty, and raw emotion. Loved this!

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    1. I loved your post, too! I always feel a kindred connection with writers who are willing to be honest, as you were today. Thank you for your presence here!

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  2. Oh, so very beautiful. And I think so true, in each of our lives, we are often both inside and outside. Thank you for sharing your heart today.

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    1. We are full of paradoxes, aren't we? Grateful my heart-words spoke to you today, and for your kindness.

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  3. I always soar on the paints of your canvas friend.

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    1. * hugs *

      And each day when I see my little songbird on the canvas you painted, it makes me happy...

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  4. I love this Amber... and it resonates with me, way down deep.
    Always enjoy coming over to visits and read from your point of view... always wonderful writing... always!

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    1. That resonating down deep, it's the kind of feedback that always makes me happy - and thankful. It's one of the best things about writing, no? Grateful for your visits here!

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  5. Amber, you've put breath right into the midst of my experience. Thank you for this. It resonates down deep for me, too, for tons of reasons and especially as I'm taking a bit of a break from blogging to simply be in the midst of my life. I love how you so thoughtfully turn in/out on their sides, too, because how often we experience both in the same moment. I am thankful you write, friend. You put words to some places in which I have none. xoxo

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    1. This comment has been removed by the author.

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    2. (Um, so I deleted the first comment I made because I forgot to delete my husband's funny Spanish interjection - he commandeered my keyboard - before I published it. Whoops :-) ).

      Hi there, dear friend. I've missed you. I figured you've been taking a break from blogging and tonight I'm praying joy, wonder, refreshment and peace into this time of be-ing. I think of you often, and I'm thanking God I'm able to put words to some of these places for you, as you have for me, many times. Love you, sister.

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  6. Hi! So I've been following your blog for a little while and I love the way you write! I nominated you for a liebster award and you can see the post I wrote on the link below. :) If you're not into these kinds of things I understand.

    http://5heartsonefamily.blogspot.com/2014/04/the-number-11-liebster-award-post.html

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    1. You are so kind! And I feel honored by your nomination. Thank you. I would love to participate, but if I'm really honest, I regret to say I don't think I have the time that is needed to put into this post this week. But I enjoyed reading what you wrote, the questions you answered, and learning more about you. I've appreciated the honest way you write and I look forward to reading more :-) Thanks again, so much. It's always encouraging to 'see' you here.

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  7. Woah. Gorgeous. {*breath taken away*}

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