Cigarettes and Malice

It’s been a few weeks since I’ve entered a post here. I’m not going to apologize for this because I believe my readers understand that there are times one needs to regroup and reflect on one’s path. The path is as important to me as the end destination but often the path is arduous and can be all consuming. The end is just the end. It doesn’t require a lot of work.

This isn’t to say that I haven’t been writing privately and I’ve written for a couple of different publications – namely Venü Magazine and Artscope Magazine – which has been deeply satisfying. But before sharing posts here with you, I feel a certain responsibility to be sure of the content I’m writing, the authenticity of my voice, and the validity of what I am sharing. These are self assigned essays, and posts which appear here are often something between the private thoughts I jot in my journal and the offerings I may provide for any editor of public consumption. It’s a tricky terrain.

It is said that a significant part of recovery from trauma includes embracing your thoughts and emotions – to really feel them as opposed to pushing them aside and soldiering on. There is a need to find answers to certain questions but there is also wisdom in being able to sit and accept the questions – many of which may go unanswered. For now. Forever. 

As a result of all this contemplation, my office space – the place where my journey is often examined – had begun to smell of cigarettes and malice. The cutting away of the narcissist’s tentacles, now left decaying on the office floor, created a situation where the windows required opening. Fresh air brings new insights, and with the crisp frost of a March blizzard, it occurred to me that there were truly only three things I wished to focus on. Writing. Photography. Exercise.

Writing, by its nature, requires a number of subsets of focus – reading, research, learning, self inquiry. But for the sake of not overwhelming myself, I’m sticking with the idea of the three focus points. Writing is a horrible vocation but it is inscribed upon my DNA and it is my intention to do it to the very best of my ability. Let’s see where that takes us.

I have also come to understand that what was, in the past several months, a recovery, has transformed itself and has become instead a different kind of journey. The focus of my eye has turned toward new goals and a revitalized sense of empowerment. I realize that I am much stronger than even I assumed. I also came to know that I wanted to share my story, embrace my authenticity, and that my words may help others or provide some kind of inspiration. I’ve worked hard over the last fourteen months and as my son recently lectured to me, “Why are you only sharing these insights with me? You should be sharing them with the world”.

But, there was the feeling of exposing myself here and that this exposure would crush whatever career path I had been following and open me up to judgement and ridicule. My last blog, 2sweden4love, despite being untouched for over a year, still brings me business opportunities and connections. I think the reason it does so is because not only did I market the hell out of it, but mainly because I spoke my truth. I spoke my truth despite what anyone might fire back at me as “cultural criticism” in a country where I resided as a guest.

Experience can be one person’s torment and another person’s challenge. While I have been an arts writer for many years, I have become increasingly interested in how our experiences shape who we are, how we react, and how those experiences affect our mind.

Spring is upon us. It’s time to open all the windows.

Lisa Mikulski is an international writer and photographer based in Boston, MA. Available for print or online publications. Editorial, features, content development, and creative. Contact me and let’s write your story.