Spring on the Way, Writing Through Hard Times

Early blooms of cherry, with nearly full moon

Spring on the Way

Well, like you, I woke up this morning to the news that Trump had, for some unknown reason (and without congressional approval) started a war with Iran. (Not than I’ve been a big fan of Iran’s hardline and repressive religious conservative government, but this move may put even worse people in charge, not to mention encourage more terrorism…I hope not.) Another reason to feel your country is out of control, in the hands of people too stupid to do their jobs? And didn’t Trump run on a “no foreign wars?” platform? And of course this rocks the stock market and boosts the price of gasoline. This is on top of skyrocketing inflation that Trump lied about not existing in his looong, meandering and completely false SOTU address.

But also, today, the sun was shining, some signs of spring, like these branches of cherry with the rising moon. Glenn and I went to the bookstore, walked on the water in Kirkland. I spent almost all day on Friday doing various tests for cancer in my thyroid, liver, testing my immune system problems, and it was tiring and discouraging, so I needed a whole day to recover before I could get out and about. One thing about chronic illness that people who are healthy may not know is the amount of time, energy and money is really takes. We had to prepay $500 for those tests, too, and we are not overflowing with money right now—which always makes me think about those who do NOT have good insurance. Are there always reasons for hope? Yes. Are there also days that feel like they drain all hope from you? Also yes.

Female Anna’s Hummingbird

Writing Through Hard Times

I have a few friends bringing out books soon, and they have told me how they struggle to continue to write, to even dare to post about their new books, or do readings, or any normal things.

I feel this pressure and anxiety as well—how do you write through the most stressful times I’ve ever experienced in my life? How relevant does poetry (or AWP, or a new book) feel in the face of women losing their rights to thier bodies, facing a new war, facing threats to our voting rights? Can women in particular be expected to just go about business as usual? How can we deal with personal crises on top of political stress?

February sunshine, me

I try to spend time noticing nature, spending time reading, trying to deal with each crisis as it comes and just do the best I can. Friends are also a huge support. And can poetry save a country, save women’s rights to vote or use birth control, help us heal our own bodies or those of our loved one? Writers are storytellers, and storytellers have an important roll to help people remember moments in lives, in history. If the American mythology seems to be teetering on the edge of insanity right now, how can we set that right? Can writing our own versions of mythology sound a note of hope, of justice, or reason? I hope so. I certainly don’t think it helps the world for artist to silence themselves in the face of so much uncertainty. Reading books about apocalypses helped me process the anxiety of the nuclear war threat of the eighties as a kid—perhaps something you’re writing right now will do the same for some other person? Speaking your truth—whatever that is—seems more important in a world where false information spreads like wildfire and hate tries to suppress everything kind, joyful, empowering. Is what you and I have to say about our daily lives, our work, our love lives, our disappointments and hopes important right now? I would argue, perhaps even more important than we know.