On Poetry
The past few years have been kind of a lull in my life. Not that they've been horribly bad or I've been extremely unhappy, but there haven't been any big changes. Although I guess I can't say that I wasn't unhappy, I was really quite unhappy at work for many months. I felt much like I was drowning in a way; I couldn't really get excited about the world around me, I had nothing to really think about, I couldn't feel much. And I couldn't write. I started a writing group with a few of my friends from work, hoping this would force me to be inspired. They none of them were poets, specifically, but it didn't matter. It was nice to have a group of people to share work with. The only thing was everything I was writing was quite literally crap, and I knew it.
Then a really great thing happened and I was laid off for several months. I was able to live fairly freely. I had less money than before and my budget was extremely tight, but I had all the time in the world to just be me. I cooked more often, I got certified to teach pilates, I took long walks everyday. I went to visit my parents a lot, I took road trips to see both my sisters in New York and Ohio. It was a good time. I was really thankful.
My work offered me my position back this past fall, without the one, main, and quite terrible responsibility I used to have, but I was still hesitant to take it. I was nervous that going back there would ruin my creativity again. In the end I did end up going back, for financial reasons mostly, and the crazy thing is, my creativity has totally flourished. I've written 5 poems in the last month, and that's more than I've written together in the last 3 years. I feel amazing. All I want to do is write. I am overwhelmingly happy about this development. Not only because my job is no longer utterly insufferable to me, but also because I can recognize a good poem when I see one, and I'm so so thankful I haven't lost my touch. I was really getting worried that I couldn't write anymore, at all. Because I need to write. I know this now, since it's come back to me. I need it, like I haven't needed anything else in my life. I need other things too, but this is different. I can't explain it really.
You know I used to get really upset when people would call my poems "dark." I couldn't believe it, how could someone think that about my work? But I guess I didn't really even know why this bothered me so much. After a while I finally realized what was really upsetting me: it's not that they're about "dark" things (some of them are pretty upsetting, I know this) but it's because I felt like these people were saying that they didn't like what I was writing about, I shouldn't write about disturbing things, and that therefore, what I was feeling was wrong. And I'd hate to think that feeling something was wrong. I believe that feeling any emotion is valid, and expression of that emotion should be too. If I didn't express any anger or hurt or pain, it'd be hard, wouldn't it, to get over them? At least this is how I feel. This is why I write.
A special thanks to my dear friend Lesley who has been gracious enough recently to take a look at my new work and make some comments. And she's also been brave enough to send some of her own to me to look at, even in their most insecure and infant stages. I have to say I'm so grateful to have a friend with whom I can share this new burst of inspiration. Lesley is just such an amazing poet, and I couldn't ask for a better friend, so to be able to share these poems with her has been a great gift. I can only hope the trend continues, for the both of us.
Then a really great thing happened and I was laid off for several months. I was able to live fairly freely. I had less money than before and my budget was extremely tight, but I had all the time in the world to just be me. I cooked more often, I got certified to teach pilates, I took long walks everyday. I went to visit my parents a lot, I took road trips to see both my sisters in New York and Ohio. It was a good time. I was really thankful.
My work offered me my position back this past fall, without the one, main, and quite terrible responsibility I used to have, but I was still hesitant to take it. I was nervous that going back there would ruin my creativity again. In the end I did end up going back, for financial reasons mostly, and the crazy thing is, my creativity has totally flourished. I've written 5 poems in the last month, and that's more than I've written together in the last 3 years. I feel amazing. All I want to do is write. I am overwhelmingly happy about this development. Not only because my job is no longer utterly insufferable to me, but also because I can recognize a good poem when I see one, and I'm so so thankful I haven't lost my touch. I was really getting worried that I couldn't write anymore, at all. Because I need to write. I know this now, since it's come back to me. I need it, like I haven't needed anything else in my life. I need other things too, but this is different. I can't explain it really.
You know I used to get really upset when people would call my poems "dark." I couldn't believe it, how could someone think that about my work? But I guess I didn't really even know why this bothered me so much. After a while I finally realized what was really upsetting me: it's not that they're about "dark" things (some of them are pretty upsetting, I know this) but it's because I felt like these people were saying that they didn't like what I was writing about, I shouldn't write about disturbing things, and that therefore, what I was feeling was wrong. And I'd hate to think that feeling something was wrong. I believe that feeling any emotion is valid, and expression of that emotion should be too. If I didn't express any anger or hurt or pain, it'd be hard, wouldn't it, to get over them? At least this is how I feel. This is why I write.
A special thanks to my dear friend Lesley who has been gracious enough recently to take a look at my new work and make some comments. And she's also been brave enough to send some of her own to me to look at, even in their most insecure and infant stages. I have to say I'm so grateful to have a friend with whom I can share this new burst of inspiration. Lesley is just such an amazing poet, and I couldn't ask for a better friend, so to be able to share these poems with her has been a great gift. I can only hope the trend continues, for the both of us.
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