Breathe Again

Really, after all is said and done,
After the sunroof and the tire, the title and the tags, my new Volvo is rockin’.

And really, after all her poems were finished, Mary Oliver’s Friday night reading in BigCity, NC all boiled down to one jewel of advice for me:
When asked what advice she would give to young writers who are eager to create and put something beautiful into the world but anxious about all the greats who came before them, she replied simply, “Oh, that’s the anxiety of ambition. But you’ll grow older and more patient and you’ll be ok.”
I’ll be ok.

And really, after waking early on Saturday morning to do homework all day,
the costume party that night at Chasewood in the peak of full-moon mountain air, dancing the night away with friends and artists and the like,
may have been a foolish move right before a deadline
(as the margaritas and bonfire that occurred later on might have been over the top)
but I woke up smiling and thankful for rich company and community.

And even though I had to leave the benefit concert early this afternoon, choosing homework over tenth row seats to see Darrell Scott and his dad Wayne perform, between sets I was given the sweetest blessing from a friend who knows about Cass, which really made it all worthwhile in the end.

And even though I had a double latte, two cups of black tea, and it’s one in the morning, my packet is done and I read three books and I’m sending my advisor 27 pages of revisions, 8 pages of essays, and 6 pages of a process/craft letter.

What do I do now?

Oh yeah, that thing they call SLEEP.

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