It has been an interesting experiment so far, and I’ve definitely written more poems in the past 8 weeks than in my life up to this point. I’ve also written at least 15 poems I think are good, which was as many as I had written in the past almost 3 years. So, there is definitely something to be said for giving myself a little push. For working consistently on my craft. Unsurprisingly.
However, the past two weeks have been challenging, and I am starting to feel like Bilbo Baggins (butter scraped over too much bread), and like I too need a holiday. There are several reasons for this. One being that pushing will only get one so far. Inspiration requires breaks and breathing room to grow as well. Input, not just output. I am also struggling with the idea of putting myself and my work out there – not because I don’t think it’s good enough to share, but because social media exhausts me. It is simultaneously a great and terrible invention. And as an HSP it is a huge energy drain. There is a lack of communication. I get a few likes (mostly from the same people) and comment here or there (mostly from my mum…), but I struggle to see if there is anyone out there except for a few friends who are actually connecting with my work. If all this blogging and Instragramming and Facebooking and whatnot serves a purpose. Additionally, my other creative endeavours tend to fall to the wayside as I “have to” write a poem every day and that becomes my priority, often exhausting the limited amount of creative energy I am allotted on any given day.
Today is my birthday, and it seems as good a time as any to take a break. Especially since I have social engagements almost every day next week. That is not to say that if a poem whispers to me in the woods or as I’m drifting off to sleep, I will chase it away. But no more squeezing blood from stones, for the time being. And as I think of the week ahead without having to, I notice myself relax.
Does it feel a little like failing? Of course. Though I fully intend to return. And it feels a lot more like kindness.
I am still planning on sending out a newsletter at the end of this month, so if you haven’t subscribed and would like to receive it, you can do so here.
I will leave you with yesterday’s poem, which is appropriately entitled “Drought”.
Poem #56: Drought
The well has run dry
the bathwater is cold
and the rain will never come
My mind is a stagnant pond
untended, in the corner of the back garden
where nobody goes anymore
Muddy and overrun with algae
I cannot wring the clouds
forcing them to spill
flowers over barren soil
All I can do is dance and sing
let the wind blow through my hair
observe the heavenly bodies
creating pockets of light in the black
and wait patiently for the rain to fall
YT link: https://youtu.be/dcH0Ro84iOs