I haven’t been writing much recently. But when I take some time out, to appreciate my surroundings, to listen to the world around me – I turn to poetry. It comes easily, flows through me like a river.
I feel like my writing is evolving – turning into something beautiful yet still full of meaning. A way for me to reflect on the way I feel, what’s happening inside me – but also being mindful of the present. Of what I see, hear and feel… It’s these moments when I fully immerse. Merging my creativity with emotions and the physical sensations around me.
Below are a couple of pieces that I’ve written recently – I shared one at a ‘Poetry in Motion’ event recently in Wellington. First time I’ve stood up and spoken these words out-loud. What a feeling!
The mind is a powerful and beautiful yet dangerous entity.
We can’t escape it. We live with it constantly. It can be our best friend but also our mortal enemy.
Why does it talk such negativity to us? Why does it hate us, tell us we’re worthless, we’re nothing, we’re incapable of being loved.
It’s like an ocean. A storm. The waves come constantly, hitting us, neglecting us, the waves getting bigger until we’re consumed. Consumed by self hatred and anxiety and fear. Consumed by thoughts that mark our daily life with such pain and exhaustion.
Hope is lost.
Life is a blur.
Life is a constant kick in the stomach. Again. And again. And again.
Our mind plays tricks. Makes us feel like there is no point. Makes us feel unwanted, unloved… nothing.
Who am I? Am I my mind? My thoughts?
Who am I without this? But who am I with it?
Why should I believe me. Why should I let this negativity consume me and become me.
But if I don’t believe me. If I don’t listen to me. Then what can I believe? Who can I trust?
My mind is my best friend but also my mortal enemy.
It stays with me through happiness and hatred. It helps me when I’m low but makes me low in the first place.
Putting myself in the moment. In the here and now. Letting my mind remember where I am. What I’m doing. What I am touching, tasting, feeling…
It’s this process. These times. Of being in the moment. Of being present.
It’s this that helps my mind stay truthful. It’s this that helps my mind become my friend.
It’s waves crashing against the sand. The whiteness of the foam – as they’re forced to roll in on themselves. Forced to break. Forced to change.
The waves coming. Colliding, crashing, created by tidal flows. This is nature.
The sound in my ears, my head.
The sound of something that never stops.
The sound of something comforting. Yet terrifying.
The vast ocean. The turquoise waters.
It’s like the flooding of my mind. The waves constantly hitting me, breaking against me. Forcing me. Never ending.
When does the calm come. When does the storm stop?
It’s constant. Yet inviting.
Never ending. Never stopping.
A storm in my mind. The calm comes. But it doesn’t stop the waves. It’s calms them, it creates a momentary lapse. But the storm is always there.