You know, I usually shy away from manifestos, ars poeticas, encompassing statements of any kind. But sometimes it’s good, like it or not, to sit back and think about who you are, what you are doing, and where you want to be. Thanks to Fertile Ground’s little push, I’m seated, and thinking…
There’s a person inhabiting my body. She spends her time interpreting the visceral experiences of the body that holds her in the world. She is not separate from the body, but she is also not the first point of contact with the world: the body is. The information then flows through the cells, synapses, etceteras, and ends up here, on the page: the place where she finds herself enthralled in a desperate need to record it.
I don’t think my desire to record what I come to understand about my body in the world is a need for truth, or proof. I think rather it is a need for the exchange: for me to talk to, or try to reach, that world that my body always gets to be a part of, yet I feel like I don’t – not completely, anyway. Without my body I might be better suited to touch the world around me, but without a body, there is no me. It would seem the human condition sets me up to be always slightly separated by the scrim of my skin and bones from the world I inhabit. Still, I must try.
My relentless attempt to exist in the realm of my body avails no such existence. Instead I get a new thing: a kind of holy, private space in which I feel – I become! – a part of the beating, throbbing universe at work. Just a pivoting and weaving atom in a world of atoms. During a stint of writing is one of the few times when I feel most present. Most myself. Most alive.
Naturally, I want to stay there, because it feels good. Thrilling. Whole. So I keep writing. I am an addict after all, hardwired to chase highs.
In doing little exercises like this I am always so surprised to find that, at the end of the day, when I really think about it, all I care about, is not publishing, or being read (thought those things also feel good), but sitting down with myself, and writing.
Tags: ars poetica, manifesto, poetry, writing
October 18, 2007 at 9:55 pm |
I always like little surprises like this, finding something that refreshes my day, finding someone who is well written, and thoughtful. I hope life gives you the resources to quit the day job, and write full time! David
October 18, 2007 at 10:04 pm |
Thanks for stopping by David, and for your kind thoughts! Glad you enjoyed it!
October 18, 2007 at 10:36 pm |
sitting down with myself. yes!
a break from the imposition of everyone else and everything else and listen to myself.
October 19, 2007 at 12:59 am |
Ahhh… you said what I’ve been thinking so much better, so much more beautifully – even though writing isn’t my endpoint these days. It makes me happy that it you feel great doing something you are so damn good at.
So much such as.
{had to be said} hahahaha
October 19, 2007 at 1:40 am |
Yes! Getting to that space outside the boundaries of our skin. I appreciate your writing – have lurked around a bit. Good writing, thoughtful and you can make me laugh. Not much more a lurker could ask for!
October 19, 2007 at 2:07 am |
You always manage to turn a perennial theme on its head. And point out the tail that nobody knew it had.
October 19, 2007 at 1:21 pm |
M – what you’ve described here is sometimes referred to as “being with being.” And indeed, it can be intoxicating. It’s one of those nice little places along the “path” where we get to pull-off and just breathe.
October 19, 2007 at 3:00 pm |
AMEN Sister! I loved every thought here. I can almost feel those experiences flow through and between your cells and pour from a thousand different points to coalesce on the page into your beautiful words.
October 19, 2007 at 4:31 pm |
Angie – ditto to you with your pictures, and thanks for all your encouragement! Nanowrimo is coming up and I am stocking up on that!
Kimberlurky: thanks for piping up and stopping by – and for your compliment!
D – Thursday came and went and I COMPLETELY forgot to post/write a poem! I will try to be better next week. The stuff that came out of me during this exercise is also a big part of The Night – did you get yours yet?
Chops – thank you thank you thank you – my constant blogpanion!
October 19, 2007 at 7:21 pm |
M – I actually thought you’d start posting poems after the namblamwritemore month thing is over. I tried it out this week and actually found a few minutes to get around and comment. It’s definitely not the same though.
I have not picked MY copy of The Night yet, but I gave you my word that I would and I will. No go write something amazing!
D
October 19, 2007 at 10:20 pm |
ack (i’m so behind on my blog reading)! this is so lovely. so, so, so yes! thank you.
October 20, 2007 at 10:37 am |
Oh, you said it so well. So well. Thank you.
October 22, 2007 at 2:55 am |
I’ve lurked about myself, but this time have to say: holy sh*t. You’ve bridged writing as a meditative-addictive place of being. In clear language as understandable as a recipe for matzo balls.
I’m inspired. For you. For me.
October 22, 2007 at 5:23 am |
Wow! Thanks Selma.
Deb: glad you delurked, and I’m even more glad what I said speaks to you! thanks for reading.
January 14, 2008 at 12:06 pm |
You are a writer. A writer. A writer.