Okay, not poetry, but from the poet anyway.
I have become aware in the last week or so how very self-centered, how egotistical, poetry truly is. It has been a journey for me to try to lose that ego part of myself, to face it and let it go, and has come as no surprise that I have in fact been feeding it. Ego was once a majour survival tool for us, and it is not so easy to sublimate. This is particularly true in our American society, where the ME generation set a precendence about putting ourselves and OUR needs and desires above others'. Service is seen as a weakness, not a virtue. For true peace to come to this society, there will need to be a shift of attitude. The giving of one's self, time and effort is truly the only thing of value anyone can give to another. This is especially true when it comes to one's children. We have bred a generation of neurotic and insensitive kids who do not know how to deal with the world at large, merely by not giving them the gift of attention from one or both parents.
Well, revelation yet again.
I have to wonder to myself how it will change my writing. It has been an uphill battle to change myself, but one of my gifts to this world is my art, the painting and the writing. What will I do with it now?
We work in the Dark; we give what we have. Our Doubt is our passion- our passion is our task, and the rest is the madness of art. -Henry James
