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We take our piece of Hell. We become victims of our own sensitivity instead of being empowered by it. We become tied by our dreams, prisoners of our hopes. We lose sight of ourselves. And take some more pieces of Hell.

Crédit photo : Robert Desnoyer

Will you take a piece of Hell ?

Born again.
As writers, that’s our very condition. At least for many of us, maybe all.

French psychiatrist Boris Cyrulnik coined the word « resilience », which means, simply put, being like the Phenix, or the 9 lives cat.

It means we all died, morally, symbolically, emotionally once in our real life. We’ve been crashed, sometimes by terrible events, sometimes by a sort of invisible hand of evil over our destinies.

Wounded persons and warriors, motherless childs miles away from home, lost souls under the stars, that’s what we are.

Moreover, there is a natural tendency in any writer to accompagny the emotional curve of his characters. This could even be seen as part of the job. And periodically we go like them trough crisis, head first into darkness.

We chase rainbows. Build Spanish castles made of sand. We are magic seekers, justice lovers. We feel the suffering and crave for relief and peace. We work hard to forget all about our fears and inner despairs.

We take our piece of Hell. We become victims of our own sensitivity instead of being empowered by it. We become tied by our dreams, prisoners of our hopes. And we lose sight of ourselves. And take some more pieces of Hell.

Sometimes without even noticing, or even taking pride in it, as some sort of a necessary price to become better, or a personal purgatory for our heavy consciousness. This mindset doesn’t lack of panache. Standing still in a rain of bullets with nothing but a steel grin on our faces.  So spectacular. So rewarding for the golden legends of ourselves we love to tell ourselves. But dangerously foolish. Childish. Stupid.

Let’s put an end to the curse we’ve put on ourselves and be adults. Let’s awake from limbos, stand firm, and work things out. Let’s get real. Let’s seek for clarity.

Is your personal situation ok ? Do you have financial issues ? Do you take enough care of yourself ? Have you a loving one by your side ? Are you satisfied by what you write, or is your dayjob ok ?

Improve what you can. Take steps. And if not for you, do it at least for people that care for you, so few as there might be. If we don’t write our own real life with passion and will, how could we possibly write any meaningful story ?

Don’t walk away. Open your eyes and begin by yourself.  You are, I am, we all are in the situation of people we pretend to write for : wounded and desperate, facing dangers in a ruthless world.

Life is enough. Life is all.
Writing is a part of it, a delicate and brilliant try at making the world warmer for all, and that includes you.

I tell you the truth. I sure have my own homework to do on this. Let’s begin right now.
Let’s write beautiful pages of a unique masterpiece that is called :

Our life.

Be heroes ? Well, to me, a hero is a man or a woman that writes life in his own terms when possible, and accepts the terms he or she is given, when there’s no other choice.

And more than often, the choices we resent to make are a way to Heaven. So let’s never again step over our own personal life line. We all have suffered far enough, far too much.

Let’s fight for smiles and tenderness.
And realise that smiles and tenderness are there, waiting for us.

Sometimes they take a war to declare, and sometimes they take our own war to end.
We only need to stop fighting, thank life for the chance we’ve been given and  fully embrace them.

And that, my friends, could be the beginning of a beautiful story…

 

Crédit photo Robert Desnoyer.

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Stories beyond frontiers. Les histoires font la loi.