Well, it’s time we talked about how scary it is to write. How totally awful it is, sometimes, to sit down to the computer or the page, feigning some kind of even keel. Half the time, I’m terrified. I’m afraid of dipping into the places my poems call me to. I’m afraid of saying things I think are stupid or reveal my ignorance. Of making mistakes. I don’t want to relive my childhood, or my teenage-hood or what I’ve come to call “my erotic failures.” I don’t want to revisit the death of my son, or my brother. I don’t want to remember things and people I loved that are gone. Mostly, I don’t want to do any of this while I’m alone.
Well this one really hit home. I am currently taking a 2 week writing retreat with a friend and every day I think I have nothing in here. Avoidance and the total joy of being here and having this time. You totally nailed it. Thanks!
Danusha, I’m so glad that you worked through all of this and wrote something to share with us. I love your writing so much. I listened to your interview with Eric Zimmer on The One You Feed, and it was one of the most poignant conversations I have heard in a really long time. My friend and I keep coming back to what you said about letting the sun do the lifting. Capitalism tricks us into thinking quantity is desired. Rather, it is the richness and depth in every word. Thank you for the gift of your writing.
Well said (and felt)
Danusha, yes!! Endless supply….❤️😳
(it's Rosemerry, not Christie, but substack only knows me this way;)
yes to "developing the ability to sit with the discomfort, even horror," and yes to doing just about anything else but write, and yes to negative capability and yes to the fear and yes to you, friend ...
Thank you, Danusha!
Wow, you’ve really nailed this emotion and experience. I feel validated, encouraged and connected. 🙏🏻❤️
Danusha, I am so happy to see you back with another post. I am 73 years old, and after a long, long detour into other things, I write poetry every day. Every single day without fail, and this month I am starting year #3. This piece is exactly what I needed to hear this morning. Last night, I thought, am I writing the same 10 poems over and over and over? The answer was YES, I am. Poetry has been therapy, but really? Thank you for putting into words what I was grappling with last night.
Thank you for putting into words how I feel. I am such a Writing Avoidance Artist, but once I finally sit down, I don't want to leave and hours melt away around me.
Thank you... that picture reminds me of a cute alpaca. I sometimes send one poem or story to a friend. It's comforting to know it's being read by someone, and just one person, even if they don't have an immediate response or something to say about it. I sometimes get a really formal text back about something unrelated. It's kind of cute.
So pleased to have found your words Danusha (via Mary Hutto Fruchter). I feel so much of this post. It can be utterly torturous to write, particularly poetry. But also we can't not! I'm toeing the line with care, currently. With gratitude, Luisa ✍️
This spoke to me in a way I can’t explain.
What a gift! Thank you so much for writing this. All the places I don't want to return to, yet at the same time somehow need or want to. I just did the ten minute timer writing and found a revisited dark moment full of light. Who knew?
I loved this so much that I subscribed so I could comment. THANK YOU. I had a current running through me around 2021 - poems coming out, wordplay, consonance and assonance and alliteration and images..and it stopped. Right now I feel so clenched, and like it just is not worth unclenching. If I unclench, someone might see me - can't have that! And this is after 15 years of meditation practice, time with therapists...can't be seen, oh no. So - good to see it isn't just me at times, and I appreciate your ideas to make it less horrifying. Thank you.