February thoughts

 I suppose it is time I had a post on my blog that doesn't include the word "Christmas."

January went by in a flurry of activity and New Year's celebrations.

This month, my most immediate goal is to get back in the routine of writing! I think about writing but there haven't been many words on paper.

My next goal is, more writing! Maybe this looks like totally new writing or maybe it looks like re-working and further developing some sections of poetry I have already written. 

In the meantime, here is a link to an essay that filled me with delight and new resolve.

You Have To Be Human by Freya India

I have read quite a few of Freya's pieces, but this is my favourite, and it really gets at the reasons I am still filling notebooks with drafts and occasionally sharing my deeply obscure poetry and essays on this blog.

I do a lot of things with my life: innumerable tasks and roles related to family, work, volunteering, dancing, crocheting, health, fitness. Every single one of those things is easier to talk about than writing, especially writing poetry. I could say, I'm a teacher! or, I'm a mom! or, Look at the new outfit I put together, or, My adult group is workshopping our new dance!, or Look at this cool thing I crocheted! and I'm pretty sure nobody would respond by saying, But why on earth would you bother to do that? That sounds completely pointless!

However, anytime I try to say "I write poetry," or even "I'm thinking about poetry," I feel like the most likely (and logical) response is "Why on earth would you bother to do that? That sounds completely pointless!" 

Of course it starts with my own internal dialogue. Probably several times a day, I have to silently argue myself out of dropping this initiative altogether. If you put me on the spot, I'm not sure I could tell you a single rational reason why I would spend time and effort writing poetry. If we were having a very honest conversation, I would go on to admit that I don't do the other things in my life for rational reasons either. I didn't start dancing or having babies or crocheting because somebody made a really good argument that I should do those things. Far deeper and darker and wilder feelings were involved. But the justifications flow easier. Dancing is good for your health. Volunteering builds community. Family is the basis of society. My job brings in income. Blah blah blah.

So why am I writing poetry again, after a hiatus of twenty-something years? All I can say is I have this stubborn conviction that it's very, very important. Behind this conviction, I believe, is the same sadness and uneasiness that drives Freya to argue for why we must try to remain human.  The blizzard of the world has crossed the threshold, as Leonard Cohen would say. Poetry is what makes me human. The earliest things I consciously remember doing are making up poetry, dancing, drawing and doing handicrafts. Of all of those, poetry has a unique power because it names things.  I embody a creative force when I dance or crochet. But when I write poetry, I speak back to it.

Sometimes I have specific goals for the new year, sometimes I have a theme. I want to have specific goals for this year, and my writer's group is pushing me to actually come up with some. But my theme is going to be variations on "You Have to Be Human."

It feels right!