A Beautiful Distraction

Woman Writing in Notebook on Grass
photo by ivan kruk – fotolia

In the wake of all that is happening in the world it feels frivolous to write about anything other than terrorism or healing, but for me, writing is an escape. It’s my best possible distraction. When my marriage was falling apart five years ago I sought comfort in my computer. I’d sneak to the solace of my keyboard when I couldn’t sleep and find comfort in the emotions that could finally be released from inside of me. Most of what I have written will never see the light of day, and that’s how I want it. Writing is therapy for me. But this week I was grateful to receive a writing “assignment.” It was the perfect distraction from the constant barrage of negativity from the outside world.

You probably know I’m getting remarried. I haven’t written about wedding plans because there really haven’t been any. A second marriage is different from the first, at least for me. No big white dress, no registry, we’re barely having flowers. That’s how I want it. We’ll be married under a chuppah in a restaurant and everyone will eat bagels and dance. Sounds perfect to me. But back to my assignment. This week our rabbi tasked Handsome Fiancée and I to write letters to each other. I could not get to my computer fast enough. Finally! An excuse to escape all the negativity in the world and write for reasons other than releasing negative emotions. This assignment was to produce something out of love, for the sake of love.

I gushed. Writing frees me to say things to my computer no one will ever see or hear. I assaulted the keyboard. I cried. I laughed. I did not edit and I felt so full of love. It was a beautiful distraction. I had planned to clean it up, perfect the grammar, and maybe tone down the lust, but instead I left the words as they were and sent it to Handsome Fiancée. These were not feelings that no one should ever see or hear. He should know. I may not be able to (or want to) articulate them at our wedding in front of everyone we love, but at least he should know my innermost thoughts about him, about us.

He knows, he always knew, but reading it, seeing it in black and white was a gift. I can’t believe I didn’t do it sooner. The letter meant a lot to him and it was a pleasure to write it, but until I was given the assignment, I hadn’t taken the time to put the words down on paper. Thanks for the homework Rabbi Davis.

Whether you find comfort in writing or not, this week I wish you the opportunity to produce something out of love for the sake of love. The world could use it.