Photo I took recently at the Philadelphia Magic Gardens.
I don’t often share what’s going on in my life, my really personal and up-close emotions, feelings, trials, and what I spend my days doing, but that’s my narrative and that is what shapes and perpetuates the creativity, the words and the formation of the poems that I do share.
It’s time I start sharing my narrative, in bits and pieces, the “author’s perspective,” if you will. Because every great writer has a background that they should not hide, that the reader wants to know, that shapes them and their writing into greatness – and by no means am I a great writer, but I hope to one day be something close to that…
It’s been a really rough Spring, a really rough Year to be honest. I’ve been very unhappy. I’ve been very overworked. I don’t feel appreciated and I am not moving towards becoming a better person. I’ve had several different chronic and somewhat scary health problems come up, which I’m still struggling to understand and deal with. But I’m coming out of these shadows in one piece, successful in my work, and looking forward to having the freedom to be happy and allowing myself to be okay. I’m not quite there yet; I still have some changes to make, hard ones that I really wish I didn’t have to. But I will come out of this okay, and surely I will have learned something.
Henry Miller wrote: “This is the greatest damn thing about the universe, that we can know so much, recognize so much, dissect, do everything, and we can’t grasp it.”
On the verge of this momentous pendulum shift that I feel is coming in my life, I have so much excitement for it and the things that lie ahead. I do realize, though, my need to practice simple existence and living where I am now, not always having my mind dreaming about what is to come, but just being here now.
Reflecting on what Henry Miller said, it’s so true. That struggle of wanting to just grasp and know what’s coming, what your future holds, what is going to make you laugh and what is going to bring tears to your eyes.
But why do we so desperately want to know? So that we can make changes to make the future more in our favor? So that we can prepare for those moments, lessen the pain, have tissues ready when we need to cry? What’s the fun in that, in knowing where you’re going to be in six months, or two years, or forever down the road.
That is what makes life worth living: the not knowing where you’re going, who you’re going there with, and what you’ll do and say and be and believe. THAT is the beautiful magic of this mystery thing we call Life.