For me, it’s therapeutic to look back at old writing and remember the place I was, and remember what was behind each piece. So, back to this series or ‘Looking Back to Look Forward.’
79. Be Both
With my new job at the time, I was noting myself getting so anxious, nervous and generally lacking confidence. With that, I tend to seem rather brash and confident when I hit higher stress levels as a defense mechanism. It resulted in me seeming very certain. It made me start thinking about how appearances don’t really tell you much about what is going on with someone. At times you need to take advantage of those illusion to push forward. Beyond that, I do believe there is a tendency to want to label everything as one way or another, and I know I have quite the history of that, but there hits a point where seemingly opposites can coexist in one state. At the time, I had been listening to some podcasts where people who had found success, who I had seen as unbreakable, naturally confident beings, were saying how scared they were.
So, in other words, this piece was me giving myself permission to be afraid but still march forward, and I’d be okay.
80. City’s Simple Company
Before living where I did now, I lived in a city that was more of a town, and before that, I lived on a farm 8km out of a town that only really had at most a dozen stores. It had been about a year of living in a city at this point. And, I honestly found myself loving it. Being alone on the farm was a different alone. I would get cabin fever, where I’d end up relying on talking to trees and waiting on people to return to get me away from a feeling of isolation. Some days the isolation felt like meditation, other days it felt like you didn’t even exist in real form with having to speak out loud to position yourself in reality. Being lonely in the city, you can still walk outside and within a few blocks you can see someone. You might even just be able to look out your window and see half a dozen people. Though you can feel alone, it isn’t quite the same alone.
The type of alone in the city, I kind of cherished this idea that no one really cared what you were up to, but they existed around you. If you cried out, someone would hear you. And, it had been brought up recently to me (again), that there is a taboo aspect to men fully crying, or showing full vulnerability.
As well, this piece was honestly also just me writing about characters I made up when I was in middleschool… and I was feeling the angst of the city, and was just really loving the rain.
The rain in autumn, with coloured leaves and sweaters, it’s its own type of rain. Soaked leaves stuck to sidewalks and gutters; earlier dark, leaving the rain to absorb the lights around; and the sound of passing vehicles through the rain… I find it transporting. I believe I had found the image for this post before, and it struck me due to it matching the weather. So, I wrote about the image and my surroundings.
Wow. Me actually writing poetry in a poetry looking format? I feel like I really haven’t been as often as I used to. But I do love it. There is something about breaking it apart, slowing it down, and looking closer at word choice, versus this kinda rambling mess here.
Okay, I’m still not very old per say, and wasn’t during writing this poem, but I found myself hitting a new stage of life that made me feel older. I could look back just one year and felt like I had developed and evolved beyond measure. As this poem speaks of, it felt like I had got my next pair of eyes.
With that, I had been around many people quite a bit older than me, and was drawn to how their posture and gaze was entirely different than those younger than them. They would lecture of how youth are full of hope, and how it fades. But, then I also saw a couple of my employees who were men in their forties who still had sparkle in their eyes and such a jovial nature. It was inspiring in a way. Beyond that, it expressed how you can learn more of the world and mature, but still let yourself find delight and aspects that would be considered ‘youthful.’
82. Wasp or Bee
I believe I had had a drink or two? If not, I had been drawing long enough I was feeling oddly drunk from it. Surrounded by artists, sketching, and trying to lift my spirits when I was so tired from the week… I wrote this just before my given deadline of the day. So, me in my oddly deranged state came up with this. It was just the first thing that came to my mind, the difference between wasps and bees. There was a reason I had been thinking about it, but I genuinely do not remember. It might have just been due to being around someone who kept being cruel and I couldn’t understand their reasoning.
83. Emotional Rawness – Internal Tree
Ah yes, the classic emotional breakdown. It’s weird reading this now, because I have since had a traumatic event that made me have to start seeing a psychologist. When I wrote this, I had never sought help. I would just get glimpses of realizing I had depression or anxiety because I didn’t know what they meant.
Specifically with this, I have an auto-immune disease (I would rather not specifically say which one), and when I don’t avoid the cause of it and don’t keep on the good path for it, I will end up so utterly tired, every muscle sore, exhaustion, sleeping for 12 hours per night, gut issues… the list goes on. A few days into the symptoms, I would end up in a really dark place because it brought out any mental illness into full force. This was me trying to talk through it, because it was all I really had on my mind.
84. Vigor and Grace
A random write. As noted from the last piece I spoke of, I was still having quite a time with my auto-immune disease, so it was hard to think clearly for writing, so I did one of these. I was determined to post daily, and this was all I could handle, but I also found them very therapeutic. This one seems to focus on power struggles and feeling stuck while others are seemingly distant.
And there is my ramble about those few. Hope you got something out of it, and weren’t too appalled by my free-writing here.
Would love for you to give them a gander if you feel like it. Maybe not pieces I am most proud of, but it’s interesting to see the difference from then and now.