The last post for the Writers of Kern A-Z challenge is Z for Zen. No need to fret, my legs aren't crossed and there are no monotone hums vibrating from my lips. Whenever I try yoga (or any type of meditation) I look like a deformed duck or an uncoordinated toddler. My zen is a different type. It's the aura at the finish. The hours of contemplation after closing the cover of a fantastic book. The last sentence of a letter. The wiping of tears from a heart-wrenching movie. It's that moment when I became aware of the world around me and yet, the feel or the pull, the necessity to be alone and process my own thoughts and emotions.
That is where I am.
I finished The Fault In Our Stars which is a compelling story of two teenagers finding love and battling cancer. Yes, it's intriguing. Yes, it's memorable. But that's not what triggers the euphoria that lasts for days. It's the beautiful words laced together, the poetry found in simple letters that has me recalling the story. For me, great literature is when I can strip a few sentences from the novel and paste them in my own life. Something deep inside me changes, bit by bit from the beauty of the words.
It's the same with music. It's not the lyrics or the instruments, it's the feeling that wells inside of me. I remember reading The Giver as a child (several times over) and discovering zen for the first of many times. It wasn't the beginning of my life-long love affair of books, but it was the trigger of a deeper, more meaningful approach to stories - the upgrade from girlfriend to wife.
The eternal search for zen propels me forward in my own quest for literature greatness. I want my story to stay lit in the minds of readers. I want them to discover words that speak to them, begging for eternal life in their hearts. I want them to find their zen between the pages of my manuscript. Unless of course they'd prefer to master the art of yoga, heaven knows I never will.