25 June 2013
There’s no denying it: summer is beautiful here.
After a long conversation with Andrew on Sunday night about our strengths and weaknesses, I have made a schedule for myself. I bought a whiteboard. I taped out all of the hours between 9am and 7pm, Monday – Friday. I choose what to put in each of these hours. These hours are mine. Today, I managed to accomplish at least 65% of what I intended to do. That’s pretty big for me. I think this might be working.
I’ve had a great day. Air in my lungs, ground under my feet. I wrote a new poem. But I’m also intensely aware of the feelings that arise when days are not as productive, not as full. And I’ve stumbled into reading about these moments in a few different places.
“When I am productive with writing — I am light, happy, even high-functioning in the domestic realm. Yet on most days the heaviness sets in and I refuse to leave on my own. When I don’t write I don’t feel I deserve the day. I stay inside and choose not to exist.” (pp. 33 – 34), Heroines by Kate Zambreno
“When I write, I am speaking. I am saying, “I exist. I am alive. I am not dead yet.” When I write, I am neither here nor there, I have vanished into a dead zone, a crawlspace all my own. I am speaking into a long tunnel. Each word I write is a mark, is a weight. I am saying, “I have a voice. It was not smudged out.”
I am here. I am alive, I did not vanish.”
– Cynthia Cruz
Amazing: how intricate this life. How complex its components. How simple its core.