Secret Code

Snow in April! I can’t really remember the last time I saw this, but I know it was a longtime ago. Just yesterday, I was admiring tiny crops of brave little purple crocuses that had sprung up around the lawns of Montclair, where I live. Now the snow has covered them. Those of us who are experiencing this can see it as odd or inconvenient — or as a gift.

Sometimes looking at the new-fallen snow makes me think of a brand new page, just waiting to be filled. The tracks in the snow make me think of the words we write. They cut across the snow, traveling toward some unknown point of arrival, just as our words take us on a journey to someplace we haven’t been before or to someplace familiar that it may take courage and patience to revisit.

When we were little kids, we used to play a “secret code” game. We would take a piece of paper and write an invisible message on it in lemon juice. Then, very carefully, we would hold it above a flame. The heat would turn the lemon juice brown and voila! the message we’d written would be revealed.

Sometimes when I sit down to write, that old game comes to me. And I wonder in my heart of hearts, if the words I’m about to summon up are already invisibly encoded within that sheet of paper, just waiting for me to reveal them. A comforting thought isn’t it? (see Cloud Writing). We don’t really have to start from scratch when we begin to write. All we have to do is reveal what’s waiting for us, quietly and tenderly, and as purely as fresh snow falling. Write on!

About karinwritesdangerously

I am a writer and this is a motivational blog designed to help both writers and aspiring writers to push to the next level. Key themes are peak performance, passion, overcoming writing roadblocks, juicing up your creativity, and the joys of writing.
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2 Responses to Secret Code

  1. Patricia A Carrigan says:

    Beautiful Karin! Your blog is an infectious joy(!). I saw the crocus too and drove to the garden center to buy pansies and a few other bits and bobs of spring splendour only to see I should not plant them just yet. Due to some below freezing nights to come. Too optimistic by far. Now they sport the indoor winowsills, looking out at the white landscape, forcing me to my desk. I wondered about the empty parking lot at the nursery! I’ve much to learn about the East Coast gardening. But thank you always for the inspiration you bring to us writers. xo

    • Hi Pat,

      Thank you so much for your lovely comment — your kind words mean so much to me! I am always so happy to hear that you are finding KWD inspiring — that’s exactly what I what I hope to do.

      Write on,

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