ON NOT WRITING

August 21, 2017

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I'm not writing.

 

 

 

This isn't writing. This is spewing and processing and undressing for strangers.

What I do at work isn't writing. It's positioning, it's research, it's artful recycling/repurposing of information.

 

When I say writing, I mean not thinking. When I'm "writing," I'm only seeing images, and the translation of image to language happens in my veins. It's a sort of connectivity. When I write a poem, this tends to happen. Especially when I write a poem that I know is good. Poetry is the only thing that comes to me this way in writing, so spontaneous and pure almost. I miss that process and I don't really know how to get back into it other than loneliness? Busyness? I write best when I'm in a terrible relationship and none of my needs are being met. Hence my romantic patterns. Where is my oasis when I'm not stranded?

 

Right now I'm thinking so much. I'm almost always thinking and analyzing and rerouting and scheming and grinding. When I talk about this with friends and my mother, they tell me I need to focus on myself, on my goals and stop including the grind to find a relationship in my process. I too think it's necessary to find my oasis without being pushed to do so, to know how to tap in. Don't get me wrong, I have intuitive, aha, flashes when I'm writing anything--but it's just so magical in a poem, it's like I close my hand around nothing and open it holding a lily. I think intuitive flashes happen to everyone. I think orgasm is intuition. I think when you reach a point where you're skilled in something, this has much to do with those intuitive flashes, whether instinct or built out of connecting learning over time. 

 

But, with this eclipse fizzing out above me, I'm inclined to think a lot about intuition, about seeing the future, knowing patterns, both when to follow and when to break the wheel. Last week, my time was dedicated to self-care and I tried once again to walk to my intuition oasis rather than waiting to be so stressed and sad either I drink a bottle of wine a night or I write a poem or both. I don't think the path to this connectivity is isolated and static. There are many entry points through self-care. But, for me, right now, that means self as in alone. Since Friday of last week, I've wanted to be alone a lot. I don't think that's changing until I get through this Mercury retrograde. 

 

This is a time for reflection, for shedding old habits and behaviors that no longer serve you, for looking inward and seeing the future, for intuition. If you can, use these next few weeks. Hell, no matter how busy you are, just be aware. When you catch yourself doing or saying or thinking something that's actually holding you back rather than propelling you, it's okay to put it down. Face it and then let it go. Be lighter. 

 

xxx

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Vulgar, bike riding, record slinging, book reading poet with a passion for pool and the Midwest. 

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