Had to hurry to scribble Saturday’s poem down at the last minute before I forgot. The words came to me quickly and kept trying to slip away.
And today we’re back to the vet because the puppy got his cone off and tore his stitches.
Woke up much more rested and energized than I was expecting. It was such a pleasant surprise I needed to write about it.
Sometimes they are difficult to find. This is, I think, because quiet moments aren’t ever truly found: quiet moments are made.
A sofa might seem an odd thing to write a poem about, especially on July 4th but hear me out. Today’s poem is dedicated to a very dear friend of mine. He came to the United States on a student visa and has worked his tail off as a student and as a professional. He’s always kept his living light, just in case he had to leave.
He once confided in me that he had a dream of owning a sofa, because to him, a sofa is a symbol of permanence. You don’t buy a sofa for a place if you’re not sure you’re staying. Yesterday he got the great news. He’s staying and it’s time to shop for a sofa.
I say all of this today because I think it’s important to remember that we are a nation founded on immigration. The vast majority of United States’ citizens are the descendants of immigrants. Just check back a few generations.
Congratulations, my friend, and happy Independence Day, America.
My bride’s been working in Houston all week and thanks to my own work schedule I didn’t get to see her until late last night. Neither of us sleep especially well when apart. Coming home for a productive day to spend some quality time with her before bed was wonderful.
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.
My bride and I went to An Evening with Margaret Atwood the other night, which began with her reading some of her poetry. After listening, I took away permission to ask more blatant questions in my own poetry. I’ve made an effort to steer away from that sort of thing overtly, but Atwood reminded me of one critical rule of creative writing: if it works then it works. Sometimes you don’t know if it does or not until you’ve done it. So, which type of calm do you pursue in your life?
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.
Today’s been a good day.
Today’s title comes courtesy of my loving, wonderful bride.
I took a much needed and unplanned self-care day to recuperate. I had no idea how tired I was and the rest has not only done me a ton of good, hopefully getting me back on top of my game, but it also inspired today’s poem.
Today I rested. Tomorrow, I attack my tasks and pursue my goals with vigor.
The Everyday Poet 