I find myself a bit lost in the world; after I write, after I do my work for the newswire, then what? Do I ring my old friends who are at my old job? Do I go for a walk on the beach and just live my life and not diss myself for “not being a productive member of society.”? I search for other jobs – and this becomes a new ritual in itself. I devote afternoons to reading and writing poetry, I write letters because email will never take the place of a good, hand written letter with pressed flowers or photographs thrown in. I long for handwritten love letters that I used to get when I first met my husband – to see the slant and curve of his writing every day when I got to work and found his note, waiting and beckoning on my desk, and full of the spirit and sense of him.
I still have those letters – and I still read them, though not in a while now. I pulled them out the other day and took in the gorgeous slant of his words, the smell of the paper all sage and spice and slightly incensey, and I longed for those early days again. How we struggle to not let ritual and routine become dull and boring, so much that our marriage goes down the drain. It is always a balance. Balance the ritual but shake it up (and we do). Recite the daily litany but never forget that this moment is your life, and yes, while you are busy making other plans, your life is passing you by. It is our job to find that jewel in the moment – take it, shine it up, polish and present it. That is largely what writers do, and whatever your particular archeological find is, go at it with a passion and a fever that makes it meaningful and that makes it count. And when ritual gets the better of your marriage or any relationship an d turns into that dirty word, “routine” then it is time again to take pen to paper and write those words of love, those daily incantations that are too often left unspoken. I want you, I need you, I love you – or, “I need you now.”