Speaking Out

Girl Cheering--Brisbane City Council (from Creative Commons)

Whew. I just hit “submit” on some poems for the magazine Rattle. It’s a publication (online and print) that is dedicated to poetry.  It’s pretty scary.

Why is it scary?

Well, one of my poems deals with the power I feel in being a mother. I literally say that in one line, that the true power of a woman is in being a mother and creating life.

That’s going to go over well (sarcasm font).  For the most part, the “artistic” world, especially the poet crowd, is leftish. This particular magazine had a “Tribute to Feminist Poets” recently, and actually reading some of those poems is what sort of got my poet’s brain percolating the thought of writing about true feminism embracing the role of mother instead of denigrating it.

My last article wrote about holding your tongue—this one is about standing up and speaking out.

Like I said last time, Facebook isn’t the place to have healthy discussions—it seems that every post someone makes has a 50/50 chance of having some angry, offended, or know-it-all person post something argumentative—and that’s just on regular, every day posts like, “Got the kids a Happy Meal today.” 1,2,3, GO! Find the person who is going to post the video about how they really make Chicken McNuggets! (I don’t care, by the way. Whatever they do, they are addictive and delicious and don’t judge me.)

So,  here I had an opportunity to stand up and speak out in the form of poetry, which may or may not be published, but I put it out there.  I think that’s part of it. When we speak out, we don’t need to track how many “likes” we get or tally up who agrees with us and who doesn’t.  We are standing up for our beliefs, and that is what counts. Those who are touched by what we say, will respond as they need to.

It’s like testimony meeting on Fast Sunday—the first Sunday of each month, members of the LDS church stand up in front of their congregation, if they feel moved to do so, and talk about the things they believe, or they know, or that they’ve learned.  Then they go sit down. There’s no applause, and sometimes, half the people in the room aren’t fully listening (because they are wrestling children, most likely).  But there are those who are touched, and they will respond or act as they need to.  Most importantly, the person who stood up, feels the conviction of what they just testified of.

When we are standing up and speaking out, that might be the most powerful thing of all. I know that in submitting this poem, in the writing of it I reminded myself of how much I love being a mother. It’s a reminder that I need often, because in the stress of my current life’s circumstances, it’s hard to remember amidst the fatigue, the carpools, the laundry, dishes, and diapers.  But it’s truth, and I am grateful for the opportunity to speak it and feel it.

Someone much wiser than I put it this way:

"If ever there was a time that the world needs disciples of Christ who can communicate the gospel message with clarity and from the heart, it is now," he said, adding that one man or woman can make a difference if willing to testify when the world seems to be going in the opposite direction."True disciples of Christ are not looking to make excuses for the doctrine, when it doesn’t fit the world’s current concepts. ... True disciples represent the Lord when it may not be convenient to do so. True disciples desire to inspire the hearts of men, not impress them."-- Elder Gregory A. Schwitzer of the Seventy, October 2015 General Conference

It would still be pretty cool to see my poem published, though. J

Some thoughts on writing, poetry, and other stuff

I have a thousand ideas for my contribution to this blog. Some of them have been floating in the ether for so long they are no more than wispy tendrils of thought; others hit me like a ton of bricks and I can't stop thinking about them. But tonight, I was looking through older posts making sure that a particular thing I wanted to say about poetry wasn't something I'd already said before, and I read a few of my older posts. To make it even better, I read the comments to those posts.

I won't go into all my posts. You can do that if you'd like. But I did learn something amazing. As I read those words, first of all, I felt eloquent for the first time in a long time. Some of that stuff is pretty good! I also heard my voice speaking so lovingly to myself, sounding like a long-lost friend, encouraging me, making me laugh, and reminding me of important truths. Here are a few:

--Don't stop starting over
--What you are is enough
--Remember that you were put on this crazy planet to change it for the better--and if God didn't think know you could do it, you wouldn't be here
--Practice makes perfect, even when we hate practicing so much because we're not perfect.
-- You've spent your whole life becoming who you are, and who you are is wonderful! Let that line shine!

I could go on. My point is that these are things I have forgotten. Scratch that. I haven't forgotten them. I've buried them in my mind and heart under giant piles of inferiority complex, laundry, and to-do lists. Reading them has already strengthened me.

How great would it be if I were writing like this in my own personal journal? How wonderful if I could read the words I wrote as I read the scriptures or pondered the words of the Prophet, and then when I had a hard day, I could gain strength from my own thoughts and feelings?

Of course, when I say "I," I mean "we." :)

Now, another thought--my original one. It's simple and it's not mine:

Wow, that's even related to my previous thoughts. How great is that?

Back to a sister from the old, pre-split Westside Stories chapter of ANWA. She said, more than once, to "write your truth."  I know this comes from Ernest Hemingway. Here is his full quote, discussing what he did when he got stuck in writing. He would tell himself:  

'Do not worry. You have always written before and you will write now. All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.'

So when we are writing poetry, we start with truth. We seek for truth. Sometimes it is with flowery words, sometimes we fit our truth into metered patterns and forms and sometimes we don't. I've said before that my poetry is for me, and that holds true. When I read it, after the fact, I'm often transported to whatever place and time I occupied when I wrote it. If I share it, I do so with hopes that it will help someone else to understand themselves through their reaction to my words; but if they don't, it's okay. Years later, I'll come back to it and find self-understanding and deeper meaning again and again. In that way poetry is like those old blog posts; voices from an old friend who knows me better than I know myself and is reaching out to leave me little treasures of wisdom. 

What have you learned from your writing? What gems of self-discovery have you found?