Today was a perfect day to honor Saraswati. In Minneapolis, we awoke to a fresh layer of snow—the first heavy snow of the winter. It snowed all day. The world has the silent, still look it always does after a new snow. Everything is as white as Saraswati’s sari.
I needed the goddess today, in any case. I’m laboring over my novel (the next person who says writing a young adult fantasy novel “sounds like fun” is likely to hear some very unladylike language). My novel is like a nine-year-old boy getting a haircut. It squirms, it complains, it rebels. It absolutely does not want to hold still. I need to clip it and shape it and all it wants to do is run around all over the place.
My attention has been everywhere but on my writing. It’s been on Facebook. On email. On random and irrelevant news reports. I’ve watched videos of cats hugging kittens, elephants befriending dogs, puppies playing with pigs, people playing recorders, and something about a chupacabra that I can’t even remember right now. All when I was supposed to be writing. Again and again, I’ve had to draw my attention back to my words, back to the slow, thoughtful work of editing.
So, Saraswati. I need the tranquil music of your veena, your contemplativeness, your inspiration. You’re a river goddess, after all. Perhaps you can help my writing flow.
And, for anyone who would like to hear a beautiful prayer sung to this Hindu goddess, accompanied by some lovely pictures of her, here is a YouTube video to enjoy.