When I think, imagine, daydream, or ponder, I am walking (sometimes running) down these hallways. Some are dusty and dimly lit. Others are bright and familiar with a path I’ve worn in the carpet, though there are almost always new hallways I’ve never seen before leading off my usual paths.
Most hallways at least connect to other hallways. Most hallways have doors lining either side. Some doors lead to other hallways, others lead outside, to garden paths, forest trails, or trackless mountain ranges. Some doors open up into rooms. Some doors are open, others are locked. Some doors are disguised and hard to find.
As I am writing my thoughts, I am in fact writing the hallway. Usually, when I am done writing, I am at the end of the hallway I was walking down. But sometimes I come to the end of the hallway before I am done writing.
When this happens, I am left unsatisfied with what I wrote, whether it be a clearly unfinished jumble of words or a decent stand alone piece. I feel as if there is more to write, more to tell. I have to search for a door, sometimes back tracking down the hallway until I can find a way to continue.
Sometimes I can find a door, and keep writing. Sometimes there is a window, so I can see where I want to go, but I just have to find a way to get there. Sometimes the window is clear and easy to see through, other times the window is dirty or frosted over, and the view is blurry and dim. If I am unable to find a door I can open, the only way I can get to where I want to go is to open or break the window and climb through. Other times I am forced to head in a new direction, which is not always a bad thing. In fact, it’s usually a good thing.
On January 2nd, I started to write a poem. I talked about it a little in my post the creative process never ends. I did end up writing more of it after that post, but it still didn’t feel finished. I could have easily finished it at one point, but I knew there was more to say, I just didn’t know exactly how to say it yet. Well, today, I found a door. I was able to open it, and was able to write quite a bit more of the poem. I still have to incorporate the new pieces into the existing poem I already have. And I have a strong feeling this is not the end of the poem, that there will still be more to say. I won’t find out until I get to writing.
In case you haven’t noticed, I like analogies. I also like the word “sometimes”. I use it a lot. I’ve used it in my blog 44 times so far, 7 times in this post alone. Sometimes I wonder if that means I’m not that decisive. Make that 45 times.