(My goodness … I hope you are not watching too closely, or have looked on but loosely around here. This is an exercise in growing and it isn’t going to be pretty – this stretching thing does weird things and like most human beings I would be mortified to learn that you thought all these manoeuvre-ings were suppose to be graceful or even competent.)
What I have noticed thus far as I attempt to write a poem a day —
Primarily, it is hard. Hard to wrestle intangible thoughts and feelings into few enough words which thoroughly convey them to other people. Hard to satisfy even myself in the endeavor – let alone impress anyone else. (please refer back to … I hope you are not watching too closely) But it is also fun … once you let go of any expectation of being great.
And … purposefully thinking about writing has changed something in the way I approach every new day. I find I am getting up in anticipation of another topic, another attempt – I am watching more carefully, the world around me, looking for clues, for cues which might unravel the words. I haven’t yet found the words that express what that does to my inner Krina core … for now it suffices to say … I am grinning deeply on the inside.
It is also good for the humility. Starting a thing – really starting … as in an attempt to become better at the thing.. is never pretty. I burnt food for at least two years before I learned to turn down the heat. I am a fumbling writer/poet at best – and I can see that when in contrast to much more accomplished poets. And … I am okay with that … I am more than okay with it, I am comforted by it. Because, I see a place in it … and I see a place I can someday be. That works for me.
(for those who have perhaps looked too closely, if you plan to continue watching, I advise you to blur your eyes a little – or take off your glasses cause I make no promise that anything around here is going to get any prettier. If you are watching because you too have words wrapped up inside you – I say, join me, I promise to watch softly in return.)