I have been struggling with this topic. Mostly what came to me were all the gazillions of things I MEANT to do with this life. Nobody likes a whiner. I searched the web for some inspirational bit of text from a movie, book, or poem. Some great proverb or SOMETHING. Nothing.
What does keep popping into my head is this little poem from when I was a kid. I had atrocious handwriting and my mom would make me copy poems everyday during the summer for practice. (It didn't work, I still have bad handwriting!) That's where I remember this poem from.
Why is it so fitting? I've been trying to figure out my inadequacies, instead of just giving you a list of all the things I've meant to do. What I realized is, I've ALWAYS been this way. As a child, I would get grounded from my BOOKS, can you believe it?, because I would read ALL day and not get anything else done. It's not that I meant to ignore my chores, I just "forgot". Today, I meant to make that phone call, I meant to start that diet, or workout, or to give up smoking. I meant to try my hand at poetry again. I meant to do my laundry. I meant to bake some scones to take to work.
What's that saying? "The path to Hell is paved with good intentions.." (Good thing I don't believe in Hell!)
Somehow realizing that this is nothing new for me is easier to take. I don't feel like such a loser. I WAS BORN THIS WAY!!! Love it or leave it, I'm a procrastinator, and forgetful, and a bit lazy. And Goddamn it, I hate talking on the phone.
So here is that poem from my youth, that seems to have stuck with me all these years. And somehow, if you close your eyes and hop up and down and flap your arms like a duck, it fits the topic.... I think.
I Meant To Do My Work Today
by Richard LeGallienne
I meant to do my work today,
But a brown bird sang in the apple tree,
And a butterfly flitted across the field,
And all the leaves were calling me.
And the wind went sighing over the land,
Tossing the grasses to and fro,
And a rainbow held out its shining hand,
So what could I do but laugh and go?
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3 comments:
Now the poem is perfectly you. And really I have to say, you have done the things you are suppose to do (well except clean your room, vaccuum, and put the dirty dishes in the sink. But you do them now when it's really important.) We are grow up with these big lofty dreams, ideas, plans, and goals - then life and reality step in. We roll with the punches, do the best we can, and embrace what we have. You are doing fine.
And it's not like you are dropping off the face of the earth next week. You have your whole life to make up dreams and live them.
No comment on having been forced to ground you from your books, I was desparte. And your hand writing is not as bad, your spelling is much better, and your love for books, poetry, and a certain little cute guy - well that's all that is important isn't it?
please ignor the typos and the wrong word - are should be all. Desparate is not spelt desparte. Oh look something shiny!
Maybe you need to copy some poems.... I have plenty of books you can pick from.
And... I"m NOT a better speller. I have spell check and when that doesn't work, I just find or pick (cuz does choose have one 'o' or two?) a different word.
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