Don’t Squander
I’m not gonna sugar coat it. We are in the rubble.
This blog has more or less been built around the idea that we are all required to make something beautiful. But it’s been a long time since I’ve quoted the passage from which the line is taken. Here it is:
“The barrenness of the poetic task: as if every day we look out at a courtyard of rubble and from this are required to make something beautiful. ”
Well, we have no shortage of rubble at present. No shortage of barrenness, if that’s even a possibility.
I’ve read a lot of advice about how to continue to get through this time and probably I’ve thrown out some of my own. But honestly whenever I read anything in the realm of “thou shalt” my brain just turns off. The best tips seem to come from previous times, for me, anyway. Fernando Pessoa, for example, said this in 1931: “Don’t squander yourself, giving what you don’t have.” And, “Enjoy being the little you are. The hovel you’re given is a better shelter than the palace you’re owed.”
Do what works for you. Give what you have. But also maybe don’t squander yourself. I’m pretty sure Pessoa was saying to not spend so much time doom scrolling.
LitHub posted an excerpt from Julia Cameron’s Listening Path, which will probably be lovely to consider in future. It’s all about making an “artist date.” I like the idea:
“In planning an Artist Date, choose beauty over duty. You are out to feel enchantment. Jotting a quick list of ten things you love leads to a succession of Artist Dates. If you love horses, you could pet a horse. If you savor chocolate cake, you could visit a bakery. A cactus leads to a florist. All your loves lead somewhere, and that somewhere is a rich Artist Date. Artist Dates provoke a sense of connection. In visiting something you love, you come home to yourself. There is a thrill that is quite visceral.”
Perhaps one day in the near future we’ll be visiting bakeries etc, but where I am, we are currently on a lockdown, and since the virus isn’t likely to go away anywhere real soon, our list of possible outings is going to be cut right the heck down. As it should be, as it has to be.
And so, as I’ve shared before, I’ve been trying to get up and out early in the morning once a week or so to take photos. I’m out before anyone else is really about and it’s a bit eerie. It’s lovely, but strange, to be so alone in places where there’d usually be at least some people. Some of the photos I take are quite okay, others are rubbish. But I’m not sure it matters. I’m happy when I’m taking them.
Someone recently posted on Twitter this quotation by D.H. Lawrence:
“There is now no smooth road into the future: but we go round, or scramble over the obstacles. We've got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen.”
I keep thinking the world will hit rock bottom, that we will be able to identify it, that we can point and say, look! Rock bottom! But it won’t really be like that. We’re going to just drag along at the bottom for a while in the shambles and rubble and eventually we’ll start floating up. And maybe it will feel like that, too — floating. Imagine how light we’ll feel.
In the meantime, Roethke also said that if you can’t think, sing. And though I can’t sing, (not being modest) maybe you can. If you’ve been on social media at all lately you might have heard of the sea shanty craze. If not, check this out. For me, if I can’t write, I photograph. When one thing isn’t working, try another. I hope you can find something, too.
