What are you like? What does she think of you? Your kids? Your family, hers? Where do you work? With all the time you didn’t have to spend breaking yourself, then lying/evading/sneaking/hedging/protecting-the-whatever-the-hell, and all the time you didn’t have to spend unbreaking – what did you do in that time -what did you do for others in that time that I spent on myself?
What would you say to me now?
“…free write 4 paragraphs or stanzas using the 4 words/phrases you selected above, in chronological order. Each paragraph/stanza must include a word/phrase from the above list, in their numbered order,” (5).
I’m going to take “chronological” to be in the order in which these particular phrases/words came to me during the initial exercise. In my case, I wrote these into the prior post in chronological order, so, 1-4 shall 1-4.
“Your piece begins with the prompt “The crack in the.” These opening words are meant to spark creativity. Complete this phrase and continue writing.” (Kaur, 2022, p. 6).
#__ – The crack in the fragile, false self-perception Ihold so dear regarding the space I do and don’t think that I take is vast, unspanned, and one I ignore so often, even as I fall in and plummet, pulling others down with me.
This second trauma, the trauma I bring to others, this one – I want to avoid. Again, I become very aware of the clock – willingly, if not as quickly as I can – I chose to learn what time it is and I chose to allow all the “things to do” to swamp in – because I wish to avoid thinking about (much less anything deeper/better?) the trauma I bring/brought. I hate looking at what I’ve done.
(oh, I don’t want to post this – but, I will. Cheers for ‘accountability” and for Rupi Kaur and the very kind, but equally clear and firm, instruction and guidance she provides – a gentle, strong hand.)
When I am wrong, in-the-wrong (different than just wrong), off-track, caught off-guard, feel foolish, I squirm. I fight. I ignore. I continue bullheadedly in the wrong direction – harder, more, faster; running over any/all in my way – myself, others, all…..
“It’s at moments like these in a game that the essentials of character are exposed: narrow, ineffectual, stupid and morally so. The game becomes an extended metaphor of character defect. Even error he makes is so profoundly, so irritatingly typical of himself, instantly familiar, like a signature, like a tissue scar or some deforma. tion in a private place. As intimate and self-evident as the feel of his tongue in his mouth. Only he can go wrong in quite this way, and only he deserves to lose in just this manner. As the points fall he draws his remaining energy from a darkening pool of fury.
He says nothing, to himself or his opponent. He won’t let Jay hear him curse. But the silence is another kind of affliction. They’re at eight-three. Jay plays a cross-court drive—probably a mistake because the ball is left loose, ready for interception. Perowne sees his chance. If he can get to it, Jay will be caught out of position. Aware of this, Jay moves out from his stroke towards centre court, blocking Perowne’s path. Immediately Perowne calls for a let. They stop aad Strauss turns to express surprise.
“Are you kidding?”
“No,” Perowne says through his furious breathing and pointing his racket in the direction he was heading. “You stepped right into me.”
McEwan, I. 2005. Saturday. Random House, New York, NY.