Many things are true at once
Dispatch #38: The truth is a centipede not a stick by the road
Hi friend,
I’m in Georgia at a writing residency. Plucked out from the grind of my daily life I’m doing a lot of noticing.
Yes, I do a lot of noticing anyway as it’s low-key my religion but there is something different about being away & suddenly amidst horses & heavy rainfall. You know what I mean? Below are some things that I’m noticing, just for you.
There are ants in my shower. Dozens. They’ve drowned yet I am the one who is inconvenienced.
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It rained for two days straight. The sound was so beautiful I almost stopped scrolling. Every time I noticed my distractivity (distractination? distractity?) I thought of monks, their ideal of diving deeply into the present moment, forgoing one’s impulsivity to notice. & Then I thought that it’s okay to be a clumsy human being.
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I’m making my coffee stronger here // my sleep is affected // my favorite moment of the day bar none is sticking my nose into the bag of ground beans & inhaling. Many things are true at once. The truth is a centipede not a stick by the road.
It’s come to my attention that I’ve gotten in the habit of writing “//” between ideas in my notebook, in texts to friends, etc. When did this little habit start? What do those two little leaning ladders // mean? In transcribing a poem “//” signals to the reader a stanza break so perhaps this little tid bit has tactilely leaked into my “non-poetic” life. Wait a second! Who wrote that?! There is no non-poetic life.
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I’m working on my novel here which means I’m looking at a lot of charts. This is the most complex chart of a 3 Act Structure that I’ve found. I find it overwhelming & delicious. Impossible to use & utterly applicable. Many things are true at once. The truth is a centipede not a stick by the road.
• In her notes about my 5th draft my agent wrote, “Commas…are wild.” I’ve been smiling to myself about that. She’s right. Grammar advice in general goes a little something like this: If the sentence can exist perfectly well for the reader’s comprehension without a comma it might be beneficial to take it out. I’ve been wondering about my need to design a sentence with so much pausing. So, much, pausing. What might it say about me & the way I see the world (hear the world, feel the world)? There’s something sweet about the intuition to force a pause on the reader. Because one of my life’s directives is to not argue with the truth I’ve been taking out most of those commas. But, every now & again, when I stumble on a comma-heavy sentence that’s clogged, & clogging up, clogging up further the mental drains, I smile & feel devilish.
Oh, comma, little oar, little tear drop, little hand digging us somewhere.
• I’ve gone for a run or two in the morning. There’s a particularly jagged path, a veritable crumble-cake of white & black rocks where I get nervous about turning an ankle. It requires looking down. It requires slowing down. It doesn’t require loving the stones but I do love the stones.
• Have any of you watched Shogun? The show’s characters at times speak aloud spontaneous poems. On FaceTime the other night Angel asked me to do the same. I loved the dare. Without premeditation this tiny poem bloomed from my mouth:
• On one of those morning runs I saw this sign on the road. Which begs the question: adults, are you playing enough? When was the last time you really let go & played?
• The most meditative part of my day often arrives unbidden through the simple act of witnessing shapes. Examples: that cluster of white & black rocks beneath my sneakers, a branch’s shadow falling on a wall of wispy dead vines, the stark quiet of minimalist art.
Sometimes a mark can provoke us more than language. That mark can propel us directly into beauty. It’s a covert operation, a Trojan horse of sorts! Tucked inside the vehicle of a mark, a shape, or a shadow is stillness. Inside that stillness is awe. Inside awe is gratitude. Inside gratitude is aliveness. Inside aliveness is transience. Inside transience is God.
• “There is always room for more creative people. There will never be enough people exploring themselves, ideas, and the world at large via music, visual art, writing, etc. The more a person maintains a creative practice, the more potential they have to see the very real expansiveness and beauty in themselves and each other…” So begins Katie Benn’s lovely tribute to the act of creating.
• Let’s return to commas. I’m noticing them everywhere, even as I write this, this! What do you notice? Without language to guide you what do you see below? Does this qualify as a sentence? As a painting? Are these shadows?
, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
What is a comma freed of duty? Who can it be without its implied context? Is a comma only a comma when next to a word? I’m talking about commas but really I’m talking about you, friend.
• In Surreal Life’s Marketing Manager, the unreasonably talented Katia Engell, put together a stunning ISL 2024 Wrapped which honestly made me emotional.
(In all transparency it is not an easy thing to run & sustain a small business. We are a tiny team devoted to curating a genuinely safer space in the literary world. There’s no place like ISL – I ain’t biased, baby! – I’ve been in a lotttttt of workshop spaces as both student & teacher. Our goal is for people of all ages & stages to overcome blocks & express themselves & *come alive*! This community continuously floors me. I want to reach even more students, to have an even wider reach. It’s a challenge. This is where you can help! The main way people find us is through word of mouth. Know a writer? If you’re so moved tell a friend – a coworker, a niece, a brother, a lover, anyone who might benefit. We’ve managed to do so much (& with such sweetness at the core) but we could go so much further with your help.)
As a token of our awesomeness we at ISL HQ TM are offering the sign-up-with-a-friend-deal!
Grab a friend (or make it interesting & grab an enemy) & apply today!
• I saw a video on Instagram the other day of a little boy a little older than a toddler leading his mom somewhere specific in the house saying, “I have to show you someone so cute, Mommy, he’s so so so so cute!” What did he lead her to? A centipede. Red & black & thick & writhing. The mother laughed & laughed. The little boy continued to exclaim, “See?! He’s so cute, Mommy!” I love this little boy’s eyes – I love how he sees as cute what I’ve grown accustomed to labeling disgusting.
• I’ll keep noticing if you promise to keep noticing.
I don’t mean to get esoteric (that’s a lie) but I feel like when I notice the manyness of things, the multi-leggedness of here & now & of the truth I’m replenishing consciousness – my own & the big C Consciousness.
It’s more of an intuition than a hard-proven fact. When I take time to notice I feel in my spirit that I’m contributing something to the world. Just by pausing, by loving, by savoring. It’s not always a huge gesture, action, or protest that changes the world.
Sometimes we change the world just by being attentive. Tenderness, after all, contains tend.
With ample maple syrup,
I love commas. And I love that you’ve noticed them and celebrated them here. (I’m an editor so I’m obligated to think about commas, but I do, personally, have strong opinions about the Oxford comma.) Have you noticed how many commas are in old writing? Classic books? It’s like our current culture doesn’t take time to pause, and the lack of pauses show up in our writing. So your commas feel perfect for stopping to notice the world. ❤️
I can't add an image here, but I wanted to share that I had what I called a "Shira" moment of noticing today. I have a practice of noticing (my anxiety disorder/chronic pain forcing these habits through therapy and meditation), but your post was such a lovely reminder this week.
Walking into the mechanic today, I saw a graffiti-ed "Saint Paul" sprayed on the outside of a window, and I could see the reflection mirrored on the other side of the wooden panel, and it was such a delight. This small, intentional scrawl of ones town, in that town, made me wonder what the context was. This was after having to take the bus to the mechanic to pick up my car. Public transportation isn't the best around here, and I usually take to driving. I've had some isolation due to a pain flare up, so it made me feel so connected to see a young woman hop on the bus sporting her keffiyeh. I accidentally peeked at her phone (I'm like bugs to a flame when I see a screen) and saw her looking at a trans mutual aid post on Insta. I decided to not open my phone but just notice what I saw on the drive, the other people (in a non-creepy way).
I came here to post this to share that your letter this week allowed me this reminder/permission to notice and slow. I also wanted to share for any others who'd happen upon this post (though appologies to the end of the semester brain mush that it is). Thank you, again, for your words and light.