Sunday, February 19, 2012

This is my fear.


I hear friends and others talk of being stressed out for a laundry list of concerns and I genuinely wonder what that’s like, as it’s not something I’m very accustomed to feeling or experiencing. Others talk of being sad and uninterested about the direction of their lives and I feel a tinge of sadness for what they describe, though I don’t share the same sadness.

The plight I do seem to run into (however personal it may very well be) has everything to do with the way I see the world and how it appears to be changing as time marches on. My age seems to be wreaking havoc on my habits. When I move from writing a barrage of poetry inside a month, churning out one every couple of days, then move to looking at my last month and seeing just two, I end up a little afraid for whether or not I’m seeing less than I have in the past. It’s a telling thing. Are my thoughts waning? Am I a little less prone to wrapping myself up in silence, slipping away from the world a bit and trying to make some sense (or nonsense) of it with words? Am I too wrapped up in what others are experiencing (I’m looking at you, Facebook) to grasp at my new discoveries? Writing is how I most choose to communicate my thoughts. I want to always be seeing more and feeling more and describing more than I have in my past. I want to push myself to new limits, as often as I can, as constant as the desire resides within me to do so.

So my fear isn’t one of the dark or of things that go bump in the night, but it’s alarming. It’s something I choose to kick against, all the same. I won’t accept the fact that I may be losing some of the curiosity I have for life; I will grasp at whatever leads me in that new writing direction. It’s the one thing I really want to accomplish this year … to do more with the talents I’ve been given. It might not mean I blog more, but it might. It might not mean I publish a book of poetry, for once and for all, but it might. I want to take this thing I like to do in all possible directions. There aren’t really limits to it, anyway. There’s no reason not to think beyond what you ever thought they were.

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