HAIKU 1 and 2

I wrote this Haiku a while back, and I wanted to share it, and some thoughts, this morning:

blank sheet of paper
unlimited potential
until I wrote this

Isn't that how it feels sometimes? The possibilities are limitless... and then a choice is made. Things are a certain way in my head, but don't seem to translate the same onto paper or into action. This piece articulates the sting of my perfectionism, the frustration of expression being perpetually penultimate, never final. It's that itch that keeps me from writing one piece, from saving the file as-is, from getting into action on a project that I don't have completely figured out. I'm all for planning, but there comes a point for me when I recognize that my threshold of wheel-spinning has been reached, and I'm overdue to do, to act, to write, to share. Maybe it's broken, incomplete. Maybe the camera angle is terrible. Maybe I know the next step but not the following. Maybe choices feel confining rather than empowering. But isn't a beautiful, broken, incomplete something better than an imagined, self-important nothing? 

I'm glad for what I was able to express in that haiku, and it serves as a reminder to be aware of where my thoughts are leading, whether to action or inaction, and how I'm feeling about myself and my work at a given moment. It is also not the last word I want to have about myself, my life and the work I do. So I wrote another one:

filled sheet of paper
beautiful incompleteness
mark of life well-lived

Today, I'm going to write. I'm going to strike up conversations. I'm going to work. I'm going to make choices. I'm going to act. Even if that action is to choose stillness over activity, to stop spinning my wheels altogether or to gain traction, I will the canvas of my life. I'll learn and grow, develop as I go. I'm thankful for the filled canvas of my life today. Thankful that I don't have to speak the last word, have the final say, or reach a destination with my life today. My story is still being written, the journey still being walked, and the road being made as I go. 

Here's to the imperfect, incomplete and limited life. To being art. To embracing limitations of time, energy, resources and thought-space. Here's to a life well-lived. 
Benjamin FaderComment