When Words Are All I Have

“Another year over and a new one just begun”…every time I hear these lines from John Lennon’s song “And So This Is Christmas,”  I’m carried into the melody and the haunting question  which is also part of the song, “and what have you done?” The inevitable Q and A  the lines require has me pondering the reason for such introspection. Then there are the admonitions of all resolution pundits: Take stock. Plan ahead. Make a stand. Fight the good fight. All the platitudes and mottoes that keep us moving forward may also be the very ones that hold us back.

This year I find myself unwilling to spend much time on the lists generated by newspapers and magazines and more time on my own life over the past twelve months. How do I best evaluate what I have or have not done in 2024? How do I measure personal growth…by the number of new friends I’ve made, the notes I’ve sent, the phone calls and texts to celebrate, congratulate, comfort, or support?

How do I measure writing success…in submissions sent, acceptances, rejections? Do those responses suggesting I send more work count as a loss or a win? Is the sheer act of completing work a positive or only a meh?

How do I plan ahead when financial constraints and uncertainties color every decision? Make a stand? Do I plant my feet and my flag on bedrock or quicksand…and how will I tell the difference when the territory shifts with the wind? And what is a good fight?

For me, the answers lie, as usual, in using words, lovely, heart-breaking, emotive words. The richness of language crooks a finger at me and urges me to write through the stages, proceed through confusion and doubt until I reach a kind of certainty…that finding meaning and purpose in living is more important that material gains. All I need, as Virginia Wolfe pointed out, is a place to work without interruption. So that is my real and only plan, to write each day, to seek the perfect combination of words to reflect my world. Poetry and prose allow me to express every emotion and provide the creative ground needed to dig deeper into those feelings, as well as the license to expand my horizons.

I am not captive to well-worn phrases but captain of a larger canvas. The blank page does not scare, it invites.

Wishing you time to follow your passions, space to indulge your creative soul, and strength to stay the course.

Happy New Year!

Jan