I started reading some Bukowski this past week and one the poems I read kind of struck a chord with me. Then ironically enough I knew what he meant when I just sat down and effortlessly punched out yesterday’s post the following morning. The following poem is simply called “So You Want To Be A Writer”
if it doesn’t come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don’t do it.
The difficulty knowing I want to not only take on a book, but write whenever and whatever I feel is that I feel like I need to have the right environment. I’ve tried to learn or execute plans in the past and I find ways to self sabotage it by being to serious about the right conditions. I think the lesson from Bukowski is just let it all go and it will come to you so you can let it go.
Letting (it) go. We have to continue to adjust and keep doing this all the time. We always need to move closer to our passions and clear the clutter to keep our focus in check. I look at Bukowski’s work though and the word that comes to mind with a lot of it is seemingly in clutter and cluttered.
This morning I opted for a coffee shop with a big comfy chair, tomorrow I may just stay in the comforts of home, and beyond my spaces to write may change. Where is the clarity? What is best? I think it all lives in the mind which brings me to this:
I’m already on a mess of drugs mostly to deal with my chemotherapy. One of them does have mind/mood altering effects but I only take it one day a week. In my appointment the other day my NP suggested I get some ‘help’ either it be through meds or counseling. I didn’t feel I needed it despite the anxiety that had
nearly derailed me in the past month. My first thought was though was my ‘clarity’; my ability to write. What I hate about those drugs, since I had taken them in the past, is the limitations they can place on your emotions, which yeah that’s their job, but my conclusion finally was that it wasn’t drugs I needed, it was accepting and being comfortable with who I was. Learning MBTI and more about my predisposed personality brought me out of a very dark time. Though alcohol likely gave Bukowski the effect he needed to find clarity (or to deliver his free flowing clutter), and I like how caffeine opened me yesterday for example; I’m unsure if the meds would help or hinder me in at least the writing aspect.
My NP has left it up to me and my doctor gave me I think I suitable option for the time being which I will try if necessary in the upcoming weeks. So between the physical clutter in my life, and assuring I keep the clutter in my mind at the correct levels I do hope that ‘conducive to writing’ thing I mentioned a few posts back will gel.