unwritten

Hit the road this afternoon for a five day writing retreat to work on the manuscript I promised myself I’d write before I turned 40. The skies were clouded with rain and my thoughts were clouded with insecurity. What could I possibly have to say that hasn’t been said before? This is what played on radio as I left home behind…
 
 
 
 
Unwritten

I am unwritten, can’t read my mind, I’m undefined
I’m just beginning, the pen’s in my hand, ending unplanned

Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find

Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten

I break tradition, sometimes my tries, are outside the lines
We’ve been conditioned to not make mistakes, but I can’t live that way

Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find

Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins

The rest is still unwritten
The rest is still unwritten
The rest is still unwritten

(lyrics by Natasha Benefield)

I’ve not written for almost six months—lost in a black cloud, unwilling to think, much less express. I am willing now. It is time to live my life with arms wide open.

Today is where my book begins.

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