Poetry…Why do I write it? Why I am struggling to write it, of late? Will I ever able to write it again or was it just a fling? Is there any difference between a diarist and a poet? If yes, which one am I? These are some of the questions that plagued me during my poetry writing funk, at the beginning of the year and with Covid outbreak.
Poetry is my first love and my first choice of self-expression. Loving it and being my first doesn’t necessarily mean it’s always easy to write, far from it. Perhaps, like first loves the magic is in my naivety of thinking I’ll always be the centre of its attention.
Anyway, during the writing funk, I caught up on some reading, other poets as well as art and creativity, at large. I also came to a new realization about my own writing, and as follows:
1. Sometimes I’m a diarist
It hit me, when Billy Collins popped up on my computer screen advertising his masterclass and saying, “Poetry is a diary you want to share with others.” There it was, the source of my writing paralysis. To be honest, I was writing but I just didn’t feel liking blogging my poems or drafts. Perhaps, it was a result of not getting instant gratification (blog comments and community support) that made me feel as if I wasn’t writing.
2. How to be a poet!
I have Wendell Berry’s How to be a Poet bookmarked for listening on days I need a good reminder on how to simply Be. Not the names I call myself or titles given by others, because they can distract.
3. Embracing the season
I’ve mentioned before Wild Words as my go-to writing blog. So, naturally during my writing funk, I went back to the very first episode, and listened again. Because it was important to embrace the liminal space I was in.
4. On being suited to my calling
There is a chapter in Rachel Friedman’s book (pictured below) where she states that it takes time to find out whether one’s personality aligns with their passion. I certainly didn’t have to think hard about whether I’m suited to my “calling” as a writer.
But it did give me a fair amount of thought on whether I was “holding [myself] up to a particular type of artistic identity” instead of being flexible and allow myself to explore other forms of self-expression and storytelling. This book, by the way, is a good investment.
5. I simply won’t stop writing poetry
When self-doubt creeps in, I remind myself why I write poetry. I also revisit some of the kind and generous words from readers, who get my writing. Because feedback like this carries me through, when I ask myself “What’s the point of it all?”
But enough about my insecurities as a writer. Instead here’s a question if you are a creative, what kind of artistic identity do you stay true to? Mind you, this is not to put you in some box. But perhaps a reminder to re-examine the “thread” that ties your work together, and stay true to yourself.
