Yesterday, I met up with poet-friend for lunch. After our long, lingering afternoon over pasta and good bread, he reminded me how lucky we are to do what we do.
With the silly season upon us, it's easy for me to forget how lucky we are. We write, teach, and are supported by a community who lifts us up. It's easy to get caught in a spiral of doubts when you're in the middle of your own anxiety.
I spend a fair amount of time in my own cave worried about everything, from our joke-of-a-president and climate change to wondering if my kids have enough money to buy a snack for school. Sometimes just having a friend state the obvious is enough for me to snap back into reality. So while I complain about grading the work of my fabulous students, or sigh when someone who clearly earned an award gets one and I don't (yep, I do that occasionally--and then I move on), or moan about a seemingly endless cycle of kid drop-offs and pickups, I never want to forget how lucky I am that I get to write poetry for a living.
I used the word "unsinkable" to describe myself after my divorce, and I guess that's how I think of myself. But if I had to pick a few more words, I would also say that I am grateful and extremely lucky to have this life. I wouldn't trade a thing.
There is a review of Rewilding at Solstice written by the beautiful and talented Jennifer Martelli. And, there's a terrific interview of Jennifer by Richard Hoffman in the same issue. Check it out!
Also, thanks to the beautiful and talented Susan Rich for this mini-review: "Best Holiday Present for Poets: Rewilding by January Gill O'Neil"