A new day

Yesterday, in case you hadn't guessed, was a horrendous day. Today, however, is a new one. A day in which I have applied for a third job, got an article ready for submission, agreed to do a workshop and remembered who I am. Though that last bit was accompanied by a fair amount of metaphorical slapping round the face and telling myself to get a grip.

Some people may think I am mad, if this comes off I will have 3 jobs, 2 novels to write, 1 journal to edit and a PhD to finish. No hassle! Bring it on. I know how can anyone make an about face like that in 24 hours? It isn't easy and I may slip back but I have remembered who I am and what I am. And I have got to stop letting others take that away from me.

A good friend sent me this poem by Adrienne Rich last night because she knew I was struggling and understood why. This was the catalyst for the reawakening. Thank you Jen and I will continue to keep my eye out for that intellectual reprobate. x

You're wondering if I am lonely:
OK then, yes, I'm lonely
as a plane rides lonely and level
on its radio beam, aiming
across the Rockies
for the blue-strung aisles
of an airfield on the ocean.

You want to ask, am I lonely?
Well, of course, lonely
as a woman driving across country
day after day, leaving behind
mile after mile
little towns she might have stopped
and lived and died in, lonely

If I'm lonely
it must be the loneliness
of waking first, of breathing
dawn's first cold breath on the city
of being the one awake
in a house wrapped in sleep

If I'm lonely
it's with the rowboat ice-fast on the shore
in the last red light of the year
that knows what it is, that knows it's neither
ice nor mud nor winter light
but wood, for a gift with burning