Contemplation Station

[corva_nera]

As an initiatory exercise and as balm for the soul, I think I might write my life in bits and pieces for the sake of observation and posterity. Yet, in so doing, I find that I am hesitant to break this near-monastic silence of all my years. Give me haikus and cryptic diptychs, give me poetry that speaks volumes without telling it straight, give me

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[bandraoi]

And I am just the opposite. My writing is prosaic -- a very purply sort of prosaic a good chunk of the time, to be sure -- but prosaic, nonetheless.

One of the things I started to notice early on when I started telling close friends about some of the life experiences I'd never before shared with anyone, and then much later on when those experiences started to spill into the written word here on LJ, is that once you put experiences into words which give them a life outside outside of your own consciousness, you start to see angles to them that make it very hard to dress them up and make them pretty with prosaic rationalizations, or with poetic ones.

That might sound pretty dire and gloomy, but then again, it lets you see what your sacred cows are and why. Eventually, if you work at it long and with diligence, it'll let you separate the Grade AAA beef from the stuff that's infected with bovine spongiform encephalopathic prions.

[corva_nera]

Haiku reply pie:

In a mad cow mood,
we moo and wax prosaic--
Rampaging milk maids.

On a serious note, I know you are absolutely right which is why I am trying to force my hand into an everyday prose. Sometimes, only prose knows the deepest secrets of our budding selves. Poetry knows, but often refuses to tell either poet or reader...

Reminds me of a favorite life-long quote by Keats, "Oh for a life of sensation rather than of thoughts."

Yet, how to break that sensate cycle of darkling thrushes and ravens charading when words have been the cozy cave to which I've escaped since before I had words?

I will forge ahead, though who wants to write about what they ate for breakfast or who said what at work? Perhaps if I dine on the food of the gods and picture my co-workers in fierce Viking helmets?

[bandraoi]

As long as you remember that, back in the time of the Vikings, despite having skalds to sing the praises of a select few of them, for them, their pillaging and sacking was just another day of survival on the job. ;)

[wewelsburg]

I've been drumming away offline about post-1987 anecdotes and such with the intent of posting them (friends only) piece by piece over time. I feel a little guarded about bits and pieces of it, and I should. Neither of us have to reveal things that, after mulling it over, we just don't feel right in revealing. Being honest doesn't mean you have to give up the farm. Some secrets are necessary, and even sacred (sacred=that which reminds you of the Self) - even the unpleasant stuff.

I suggest you communicate what you feel is most vital to communicate, and let your intuitive audience fill in the blanks. The best writings throughout history - be they initiatory (*especially* if they're initiatory), personal, conventional, etc - are composed this way. They stick to the essentials. It's up to each of us to discover the nuances and deeper undercurrents through personal reflection and real world deeds.