One of the first things I had to do was to go through all of the books and journals in the credenza. I have gradually been adopting the philosophy that I don’t need to hold onto books forever, even if they are good ones. Coincidentally, recent purge afforded me the opportunity to donate several bundles of books to an indy bookstore owner on Fort Myers Beach trying to rebuild her business after Hurricane Ian. Letting go of journals is a bit different. They have personal thoughts, memories, and creative musings. But I uncovered several that were not completely used and others that I spent some time reading through and felt ok to say goodbye. Those got tossed.
I wasn’t quite ready to let go of some of my past journals. I kept more than I tossed. But here’s where the story gets good. One of the journals I found and definitely decided to hold on to for the time being is a journal I filled almost completely during a women’s writing retreat.
Back in 2015, I organized a weekend of writing and socializing with members of my writing group and other people we knew in writing companionship. It was an attempt to recapture some of the magic we knew and loved from the NWP summer institute and local writing groups and events we loved so much. It was a small group, less than what I had originally hoped for and most people that heart did not stay the whole weekend, which was unfortunate. But lots of fun was had and lots of writing happened. I was a great experience.
Folded in half between two pages, was this envelop with hurried writing down the front and back. I think I recognized it as my friend Helen’s handwriting, but I’m not certain. I read through the envelop comments as best I could, and I suspect it was a capturing of “golden lines” or just ideas she, or we, wanted to hold on to from the event.
In the photo you can see the envelop. Below you will find a found poem I wrote after reading all of the writing on it. Understand it will be difficult to cite these lines with the exception of a couple of quotes with authors in the notes. I can’t remember who said what or where each of these lines and comments came from. I'm not even sure it was mine to hold onto, especially since I know I didn't write any of it. But it was a lovely way to remember this event that just came up in my memories over this weekend. I miss these communal writing events. They were always good for inspiration and relaxation.
Writing Together
a found poem by ljkemp
My job is to be true to myself as a writer,
not to the expectations of others.
Just begin- worry about consequences later,
the imagination needs time to browse around
to find my fascination.
The soul can speak to true longing.
Go rewrite the world.
