The writings below are copyright protected by their author: Debra Highland and may not be redistributed without the authors explicit permission. If you would like to share the writings, please link to this page for previewing.
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Writing Example 1
Excerpt from her book: “Messy, Crazy, Lovely Life-The Bittersweet Battle for Heart and Home”.
Once upon a time and here upon the earth, there lived a woman who lost her home. This home, open and welcoming and full of laughter and smiles and good tears and imaginings, gradually began to shrink and become dark. Her home had always been just right for her, for it had been designed and wonderfully made in secret, curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth by the best of the best, built to the last intricate detail according to blueprint, according to plan. But the woman had decided that things were not as they should be.
“Perhaps I should change this; it might be more acceptable this way,”
she reasoned and changed to accommodate and make room for expectations and roles. She packed up true and real expressions, for they had become burdensome and set them on a shelf. She stored hurt in the cold beneath and bound it with cords of resentment, where moth and rust would corrupt.
“There, that looks better,” she choked with a smile; and although everyone out there seemed to approve, she began to feel her throat tighten and she could not find the air to breathe and her eyes could no longer see the way.
Life came
Swelling, crashing upon the shores of heart
Deep, elusive, awing with power and strength
Holding humanity captive
Life licked at dreams
Eroding, consuming their song and dance, their rhythm of hope
Passive, warm, dangling the key of choice
Waiting for fire
Life fought
Side by side with man, with woman
Hot, determined, ready to swing
Again and again.
Once upon a time and here upon the earth, there lived a woman who lost her home, then found it. She unpacked true and real expressions, for they had been the essence of who she was and… she used them every moment of every day. She unearthed resentment from the cold beneath, wiping away the moth and rust, the corruption that came from storing away as opposed to dealing with and embracing. She used the pain thereof to feed her hungry fire and give birth to creative endeavors. “There, that feels better,” she smiled, relaxing, while gratitude warmed every corner and filled the air with purpose and dignity. And although everyone out there seemed to wonder, she held fast to the whispers of truth and love, referring always to the original blueprint, or consulting with the ultimate designer.
She could sing again, dance again, and she found the air to breathe and…although she could see only part of the way, at least she could see warriors on the hillside and took comfort in the fact that she was not alone in her battle with the choices of life. This home, full of laughter and smiles and good tears and imaginings, gradually brimmed with light. That light spread from home to home and soul to soul and filled each today with the promise of tomorrow and the unique and thoughtful lessons of yesterday.
Once upon a time and here upon the earth, there lived a woman who lost her home…
Writing Example 2
Gift of Today
I opened the gift of today and tomorrow took wing.
Yesterday’s despair crawled into the corner.
I touched today and held it carefully, viewing it from all angles, admiring the way the light shone through the dark to brilliant color, the way life entered theist remote parts.
This morning I opened the gift of today.
At first I thought: this is like every other day, this is no gift.
This is the same piece of eternity which I opened yesterday.
But then, suddenly, I saw with new eyes that today, this today, with all its hopes and dreams and disappointments will not return.
Once gone, it is gone forever and the only thing about this gift that will remain are the lessons I allow to take root in my heart.
The lessons which I use to open a new day tomorrow.
And the next day.
They are, all of them, unique and precious gifts, but only if the eyes can see
Only if the hands can touch and ears can hear from the perspective of yesterday’s regrets.
The writings above are copyright protected by their author: Debra Highland and may not be redistributed without the authors explicit permission. If you would like to share the writings, please link to this page for previewing.
Check out Debra’s resume
