Writing helps me notice what I’m carrying. To care about myself kindly and fiercely, in all my smallness and in all my bigness, in all my outstandingness and in all my failure, in all my naked truth and in all the ways I’ve hidden from it, at noon and at midnight, in calm and in upset, at any weight, at any size, at any age, in any company…
Writing brings me home, wherever in the world I am.
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I fell asleep with a full moon
beaming on my leg
and I could not sleep
without putting moon on paper
so I wrote this in the dark
by light of said moon
while a fan whirled moon-air
onto moon-beamed leg
and I said to myself:
it is good to be alive.
——————
© Heidi Fischbach, 2007
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