Prompt: Healing. What healed you this year? Was it sudden, or a drip-by-drip evolution? How would you like to be healed in 2011?
We’re almost two-thirds of the way through Reverb10, and I already know I’m going to miss it when it ends. But because this is the nineteenth prompt, and because I am only one Kimmy, I feel like I am starting to re-tread certain subjects. Maybe it’s because my life wasn’t as broad and varied as other people’s lives? So I’m going to ask your indulgence in advance for talking about writing yet again.
If anything healed me this year, it was work. I almost said “good clean hard work” but the work I did rarely felt clean; it mostly felt fogged-in and muddy. Nothing affected my self-image the way the steady increase in page numbers did. My husband contributed by enabling me to write, but it was what I did, myself, that had the most impact. Thinking about this now, with one end so tantalizingly close, I’m pretty happy about it. It has been a long time, more than a decade, since I could say with absolute honesty that I did my own rescuing.
It’s a pretty good feeling.
As for how I’d like to be “healed” in 2011, that’s so hard to say. It will depend on which new wounds I have to deal with next year. The exhaustion that comes at the end of a day’s worth of good work doesn’t fix everything. Neither does the work-generated pride that I try to keep from growing into full-on hubris. I am expecting the wound of losing the cat; that will heal with time and curating my photos of him and taking a weekend trip without worrying about him being in the house alone. But if I could anticipate everything that was going to hurt next year, none of it would hurt so much. And this is just circular now, isn’t it? I’m just going to let next year’s suck come when it comes, and in the meantime, I’ll keep doing my work. It might just be a fine immunization for all I know.