|What I am thinking about...|
I confess it's been one week of solitude, friendship and poetry since I last confessed. I spent last week at a writing retreat, writing new work, going over old poems, clearing my head and revising my life.
There's been a lot on my mind and you'll see what I've been thinking about over the next few weeks. It revolves around writing and meaning, solitude and time, living on less, simplicity, how to have a good writing retreat and and and...
But that's for later, let's go to the confessional, I have so much to share--
Small Town Bother--
I confess at our small town Country Christmas event in the park, I hit no less than 5 people with my giant umbrella. My favorite quote of the night was, "Excuse me, you're hitting my daughter with your umbrella." The daughter was four feet tall, how I managed to whack a child that small with my umbrella is beyond me.
Other things said to me, "Can you stop talking I'm filming?" and "Your head is blocking Santa."
Apparently, I wasn't being very self-aware the whole evening. The funny part is that I find all of this amusing and do not feel insulted when someone finds me annoying. I actually find it hilarious (Can you tell I was the youngest child? I swear, we get a strange pleasure in bothering people...as wrong as that is).
We have a request from...
I confess that my writing retreat was incredible and it completely cleared my head.
As I return into the real world, I can feel my head filling again with all the errands, chores, to-do lists, tasks, etc. that the real world makes me deal with.
I am working on staying in what I call "retreat mind," which includes staying off Facebook, living simply, staying focused, but in the world of everyday with the people I love, it is so much harder. I had no idea that much of being an adult is like being a walking request box--whether on time or energy.
But I'm trying to live by the K.I.S.S. mantra- "Keep it simple, Sweetie." (or "Stupid" depending on how I'm feeling). Though maybe K.I.S.S. really means: Kelli is simply swamped. No, not yet. I've just returned!
The Year of Revision
I confess 2011 will be The Year of Revision. At the retreat, I found many poems that were *almost* done and many starts on new work that were just abandoned. Poor poems, left because I had other things to do.
But I will be coming back for my darlings in 2011. I will be focusing on revising these poems I found, revising the poems in my "New Work" folder. I will be taking them out of their holey socks and ripped jeans and putting them into a much more beautiful outfit. I will let some of them wear hats and others I will give necklaces made of glass beads. And when they are ready for the world, I'll send them out and see what happens.
Best of Everything
I confess I love that people make these "Best of" lists at the end of the year. And I confess (with a swelled heart- not head) that I like them even more when my book is included on them. (Thank you, Michael, for including me in your Top 5 Books of 2010!)
I've been trying to sort out the ego from thankfulness when it comes down to these lists and what I really realize is when I see someone has mentioned my book or included it on a list of their favorites, it's as if I've been given the Sally Field moment of the virtual world (you like me, you really like me!)
And while there is no golden statue that arrives afterwards, no place to wear my sparkly gown or make an acceptance speech besides this small blog, what there is for me is a feeling of connection, that in a small way, what I wrote mattered to someone and someone cared enough to share it.
I don't think I will ever get a big head about poetry until my poem walks out the door and stops a war, ends poverty or gets my friend his job back. Until my poem makes sure no one is going hungry and that everyone has a warm and dry home to live in.
But these smaller moments, I value them--that my book did mean something to someone, someone I may have never met in person. To me, these are my best presents under the tree, the invisible ones wrapped with a bow of connection, a bond of words, a ribbon of synchronicity and thankfulness that maybe something I wrote meant something to someone, added a little joy, understanding, creativity, satisfaction, or just a "good read" to someone's world. This is the gift Santa can wrap up for me every year.