I’m doing this 5 minute writing challenge again..and late. We had a date night last night (the last one I can remember in eons, a bit shameful about that fact), but I wanted to “be here, now” with my hubby, to fully engage and do that thing called eye contact and talking about something other than parenting that we so often miss in the midst of raising a family, a child, a life.
So, I’m hoping you understand that sometimes my blog takes a backseat for the life happening in front of my eyes. But, good news is I don’t stay away for too long; I really just can’t help myself, to be quite honest. I love writing, and sharing, and you all-all of you, a whooping 7 or so odd of you, so here I am! Late to the party, but hey, a party nonetheless.
So, a reminder in case you’ve missed it, here’s what this challenge is all about…or, in case maybe you want to play too, some time-
This is a weekly writing “game” from my bloggy friend Lisa-Jo Baker, who blogs (and writes heart-breakingly, beautiful words and stories) at http://lisajobaker.com/
So, here’s the challenge, should you accept it: you write for 5 minutes, free, like you have no fear or shame or no editor inside your head (all are hard for me)…and then you link up to her blog, and encourage the writer who links up before you. This last piece is crucial, as we need to encourage others.
Each week is a new word, a new thought starter, and you have 5 minutes to write….and are you ready? go-
Sometimes I look at something, think I understand it, but really all I’m doing is just scanning. Just glazing over, glancing over something, not looking at a friend’s need to connect, or poverty, or another’s need for comfort. I also glaze over my own frivolous nature, my perspective being all askew by the trappings of a middle-income suburban life.
The washing machine not getting all of our clothes clean is not a world-shattering problem. Most days I rarely see this perspective.
I see, don’t look too closely; into other’s lives, closets, eyes. I don’t avoid eyes like the plague, but I don’t engage wholly, my family’s eyes a tell-tale sign. I looked up one night to silence, to see his piercing, clear and patient eyes, and her same colored eyes, a mix of fierce intensity and innocence, the look of all children’s eyes: inquisitive, passionate, innocent. And I came to the conclusion: I see, I do not look, I do not immerse enough, I do not understand, I still do not get it. At least not yet.
When in reality, I need to look beyond my own pretense and the social status and the hype and see the heart. I need to look beyond me.
I need to look, drink deeply into others. And in this: I’ve only begun to see.