“The part of the psyche that works in concert with consciousness and supplies a necessary part of the poem — the heart of the star as opposed to the shape of a star, let us say — exists in a mysterious, unmapped zone: not unconscious, not subconscious, but cautious. It learns quickly what sort of courtship it is going to be.
Say you promise to be at your desk in the evenings, from seven to nine. It waits, it watches. If you are reliably there, it begins to show itself — soon it begins to arrive when you do. But if you are only there sometimes and are frequently late or inattentive, it will appear fleetingly, or it will not appear at all.
Why should it? It can wait. It can stay silent a lifetime. Who knows anyway what it is, that wild, silky part of ourselves without which no poem can live? But we do know this: if it is going to enter into a passionate relationship and speak what is in its own portion of your mind, the other responsible and purposeful part of you had better be a Romeo. It doesn’t matter if risk is somewhere close by — risk is always hovering somewhere. But it won’t involve itself with anything less than a perfect seriousness.”
-Mary Oliver, A Poetry Handbook
To have an idea is not an achievement.
The start of a paper collage I’m working on across my wall.
I’ve made some realizations this weekend and things became very clear for me. I think slowing down because I was sick and being alone has given me the time and space to find clarity. I know what it is that makes me happy and so I need to pursue it in every way possible however little I do every day. I read Schopenhauer this weekend and often took breaks to work with my hands (either cooking or making the flowers) and it was very meditative for me. i think this is probably my truest self which is one of independent thinking and making connections through writing. And also that certain activities in which I use my hands feel very pure and true to self because there is no intellectual thought; the moment is tied to the making. And I saw this divide of doing and thinking: one Which is free and open ended and Another which is about not thinking but making and I realized that that was my happy place. And it all made sense to me suddenly and it was like I was waving hi to this self I had never met before.