Last week I wrote about the hole in my boat. I was trying to say I need to fix myself somehow, that nothing I’ve done on the outside has been the magic bullet I hoped it would be and that there was something else that needed to happen.
It’s still true, some kind if inside job needs to be undertaken. Last week I thought it was about plugging up some leak, mending a hole, fixing what was broken. I have sat with this idea over the last seven days and somewhere in the middle of it I realised it’s just not true. There is no hole.
Of course it looks like there is one. I believe in it. Perhaps you think you have one too, I don’t know. Maybe it feels like a very real thing, but it isn’t actually there. The only reason it looks like it’s there is because you’ve done such a wonderful job of drawing it on. Who knew we were such talented artists? Of course the odd one may have been drawn on by someone else but you can be sure that you were the one who coloured it in. It’s all our own original work.
So the hole that is not a hole is just waiting to be washed away. That’s all. There’s nothing to fix, it’s fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, we are all fine. We are boats, boats are cool.
It’s raining today, a lot. Yesterday it was sunny, a lot. That’s how it goes and it’s all good, it’s all OK. It will be sunny again and it will be rainy again. This is the world, all weathers. But it’s OK, we are waterproof, we can survive the storms. Weathered wood often looks better anyway. When I ate in Jamie Oliver’s restaurant in Aberdeen he had lots of old wood around the place. Whole cupboards and surfaces made out of this drift wood type stuff. So worst comes to the worst you are a bit of wood in Jamie Oliver’s restaurant, at least it will smell nice.
What am I talking about? I’ve no idea, I said last week, I know nothing really. I just want to figure out a way to be in the world that feels softer, with less struggle. I want to live with a feeling of ease. When I was at drama school our training was based on this idea of a feeling of ease, how can you be on stage with a feeling of ease? How can we be in life with a feeling of ease? All the world’s a stage and all that jazz hands.
Last night I dreamt I was on neighbours. I was working in Daphne’s cafe (it’s probably not called that now). My part wasn’t so exciting. I was just clearing the tables. A lot of life is like that, just clearing the tables. But maybe it can be done with a kind of joy, without smashing too many plates.
I am aware that the purpose of this blog was to help me track and be accountable for my poetry. I’ve nothing much to say there at the moment, but perhaps this stuff is all connected. My writing had lost it’s feeling of ease, it had become a source of stress. That’s not a place I want to be. So I am going to spend a bit of time just clearing the tables, maybe hanging out with Harold, he’s pretty chilled, and I’ll just wait and see what the weather brings.