Life is a series of struggles and upsets. That’s what makes it living. We are characters in a story and stories where the characters never struggle are nothing more than daydreams of wish fulfillment and quite frankly, boring. It’s easy to forget to take our problems in stride, to let them overwhelm us. Every now and then though, something reminds us that life is good, problems and all.
I had an interesting conversation with my bride about expressions we each thought of as synonymous yet which each of us understood differently. In particular our standard responses to the common question “How was your day?” provided the inspiration for today’s poem.
I’ve got a bit of backlog again. I’ve been writing but not publishing my writing as I should. I’d intended to spread out several of these backed up poems out over the course of the day but the day had other plans. So did the next. And it has been brought to my attention that when a backlog such as this occurs, that those following his blog do not like being suddenly inundated with multiple updates. So, here is my attempt at compromise. One post. Three poems. Today’s own post will follow shortly.
This poem was written in an effort to recapture the loss of the poem, Creative’s Career, which I started in a moment of inspiration that was cut short and the scrap of paper I’d written it down on was thought lost. While the opening is very similar, It ultimately became its own thing. Every time I finish a book, my mind is overwhelmed with ideas. Many of them for entirely new projects or for things I’ve set aside to do later when often what I need to do most is push forward onto the next book in whatever series I’ve started. So many ideas. So many stories to tell. It’s a little overwhelming.
I have been my own worst enemy with my writing. I’ve said before that part of the reason I use pennames is because they give me permission to fail. Permission to simply write. In essence, when I go into a piece knowing that I am going to publicly claim it as my own, I am writing from a place of fear and I think it is undermining my efforts. That got me thinking about the nature of fear and courage and what is required of me with regards to both if I am to succeed as a professional creative. Perhaps what is required of many of us going forward.
There is a principle in professional investing that is difficult for many to wrap their heads around, let alone embrace, and which I feel applies to many areas of life. Diversify your investments. Bleed money. Aim wide. The idea is that you’re waiting for something called a “black swan,” which is to say the rare and unpredictable success. Something is going to do well eventually and it all boils down to a test of endurance. Waiting for that single critical moment to strike, the build off of. Then repeating the process over again.
I’ve been really caught up in work lately. My part time job, my novels, the audiobook production, trying to do everything in a day. I just about burned myself out. This weekend I took a big step back and let myself rest. I am rethinking my approach.
I have a truly blessed life. My problems are all great problems to have. I need to slow it down and enjoy my amazing present and the process.
Wait, Day 97? What happened to 96?
I missed it.
No excuse, I had an opportunity to do it during my break at work and I passed on. After that, when I got home I crashed. Hard. Been trying to do so much lately. Not the point.
I am proud that it took me 96 days before is missed a poem. New goal: try to go the rest of the year without missing another one. If I am to miss another, try to beat my 96 day streak.
Today’s poem is inspired by missing yesterday’s. I couldn’t tell you why Neverland and Peter Pan popped into my head, exactly, though in this context it certainly makes sense. Those stories are really depressing and downright frightening at their heart. Missed and stolen opportunities.
A piece of me mourns the loss of yesterday’s poem. It will never be written, never grow up, or go on adventures. It won’t even get to die because it was never born. Simply missed. An adventure not taken, an opportunity not explored. On the other hand, I am taking to heart why this is so valuable to me. The pursuit of dreams, seeing beauty realized and brought to fruition. Here is a rededication to never stop chasing the shine.
I haven’t had the opportunity to spend as much time with my bride this week as either of us would have liked. Life is good, we’ve both just been busy. I’m looking forward to going home to her tonight.
I had tea the other day with a man who told me he’d been married three times. He said this in jest, and clarified that he meant that his wife had grown as a person and a woman throughout their marriage and how fortunate he was to have been a part of her journey and to share his life with her. I thought it was a beautiful sentiment and so we have today’s poem.
Today we celebrated my grandmother’s 90th birthday with friends and family, food and memories. This poem was inspired by this celebration of her life.
There’s an empty set of lots across from where I live. They’re my dog’s favorite place to play. Unfortunately they’ve been so overgrown lately we haven’t been able to use them. They were mowed yesterday and we were able to have a great game of fetch and I saw the face of unmitigated happiness. I’m firmly of the opinion that dogs are evidence of the divine.
(Note, the picture with this post is not my own puppy)
Sometimes we get down. Not in the fun way. Sometimes we start out strong, a few things don’t go our way, and we crash.
My bride reminded me of a secret I learned a little while ago–that smiling tricks the body, the voice, and the mind. By projecting happiness into the world, we take it back in. Our spirits are fascinating engines capable of producing our own fuel.
The Everyday Poet 