The full moon occurs in days, so it’s telling that the last poem I wrote was near the new moon in April.
It’s been a tough few weeks.
The malaise has set in.
Being “trapped” at home, working hours from a chair, social media insanity…it has brought me down and led me to recede, as I am wont to do when the world proves too much for me to bear.
Like a turtle (probably my spirit animal in more ways than one), I just pull my limbs and head and take a breather.
Unfortunately, it happened half-way through my self-imposed poetry challenge, so I’m a little disappointed in myself. I gotta let that go, though, as there isn’t much I can do about what is already past. I can, however, pick back up where I left off and share the final pieces I had intended to share for the challenge (this and another – which I will share another day) that I was too afraid would wreak havoc considering the social climate on twitter these days).
I love magnetic poetry for a lot of reasons. It frees up the mind from having to think of words, as they are already provided, but it pushes the mind in new ways to put words one might not have thought up into patterns that work to create something new. So it is an interesting mix of “boundaries” and “freedom” in creativity.
A gift I would love is a whole wall of magnetic board and several more sets of magnetic words to add to those I already have. I find playing with the words to be relaxing and meditative. It takes my mind off of other things and engages parts of my brain that often don’t get flexed during the day (and are, in fact, sometimes stifled).
And during times like this, when I’ve sort of been stunted and forcibly squashed into a new pattern of working and living (haven’t we all?!), any little respite is appreciated.
I don’t know about you, but Covid-19 has fucked shit up for me. I’m lucky enough not to have any friends or family who have come down with the illness. And most of the people I know are in fairly decent shape, otherwise. More than anything, it’s the stress and anxiety of so much change coming so quickly. On March 13, I went to work, fairly certain we’d not go in to any sort of lock down. But March 16th we were told not to come back to work. We didn’t have time to create a true game plan for how we would do our work remotely, so we have been “building our plane in the air,” so to speak, since then. We’ve been pretty successful, actually, but the politics surrounding what we are trying to accomplish have been mixed. And between the social media related to that, and the social media shit-storm in the sex-blogging community, the best I’ve been able to do is simply avoid it all and do the most important things: rest, spend time with my family, and do my job to the greatest of my ability.
I’m not gonna lie. There’s been a lot of wine…and whiskey…and TV-watching…and a whole fuck-ton of doing absolutely nothing (no big amazing projects and mass productivity in isolation for me!) as I try to find a “new normal.” It doesn’t help that there is talk that our current “mission” may extend into September. It’s causing a lot of internal – and community – angst, I’ll admit, even though I don’t have any control over it, and I know I should just roll with it and take the changes as they come. That’s just not how I tend to do change. Nope. I close my eyes and stick my fingers in my ears and sing lalalalalalala, and then eventually, after days or weeks of self-talking myself out of a tree, I might finally begin to creatively plan for the new reality. I might even become a little positive about the opportunities that the forced change has created. Necessary growth can be painful.
I’m slow to adapt. But it doesn’t mean I can’t…or won’t.