Spring Into

17 Jan

First day of term.  Spring.  New year.  And I’m burning up in this new sweater.  Either way I’m with more energy probably than I need, ready for class and generation of new ideas, words back and forth with new people.  Why not be ablaze, today?  Or any day.  With friends of mine having loved ones fall ill, there is no time.  Some say, no time like the present.  No.  There is just no time.  So on this first day I’m in character… MY character, MY story, taking me to MY. Road.  People around me making copies and going back and forth from building to building, not sure where they are and asking others where to go.  Former student asking me where this one hall is, forgot the name.  Ashamed, told him I didn’t know but I thought it was behind the library, a math building.  All those other majors, and I know that sounds derogatory, are tucked in the old building behind the library.  I’m escaping, writing in my usual spot.  Department admin off to make more copies and I’m more ready than I’ve ever been on the first day.

Then I realize that every day is a first day, or at at least a new day with a new canvas, a new something, where you can use what you have in some different way.  The paralipsis is everywhere around me… Go, Mikey, GO.  I will, I am.  This new semester, can forget this, what I am right now and what I feel.. electrical storm in my creative ebb of ebbs.  We need to start this semester with wild vigor, start writing immediately.  And if not actually writing, then moving.  Doing something.  For us.  We are here for our stories and sharing our stories with the people around us is not only a kind act, but a furthering gesture.  Getting you closer to where you see yourself, and helping all around you as well.

Books at my right, only two of the required’s for term.  Emma by Austen, The Year Of Magical Thinking by Didion.  What will students have to say about these texts, the ideas I offer.  Like a film or novel, just at the inception… asking yourself, “What will happen?” We need to know but we also don’t want to know, or at least right away.  Little over two hours till I’m on stage, on front of the class, where I have to do my job but it has never really felt like a job.  Of course, you have those terms that are a bit of a challenge, but perspective… I always stress perspective with classes.  As that is what punctuates mood and vision, the progression of the story, YOUR bloody story.

This semester is a semester of semesters for us.  This new year, fires behind us.  Strength, forward, creative and defiance of any nay-say.  You know what you want… then start now.  Before we’ve even really started.  Teachers all around me, a bit frantic but with the same propulsion and smiley zeal as me.  Let’s all do this.  Let’s all only continue with daunting yes’s.  You reach a point in your story where the nay and anything that doesn’t elevate just becomes inadmissible.  Be there.  I promise you, that’s where the gems are.

First day of term.  The first day isn’t a first day, but a new chapter and page set.  What do you want?  What can you do for YOU?  I used to ask students what I could do for them, but I can do very little beyond generating ideas, and I only help, at that.  Self is where the paragraphs start.  Why have I not seen this in other terms, in the past, the way I’m seeing so now?  What does it matter.  I’m here.  Now.  With you all.  Let’s create not only a community in here, but a tireless yay-saying tell.  Of course, there will be challenges and some days where we’re not as fiery as others, but that’s life.  And life, is more than merely short.  It’s predicated on time, and time is curt, cruel. We fight back against time with time, how we use it and what we create for ourselves in its monstrous palm.

Don’t let there be a creative pause.  Just keep writing.  Don’t delete anything.  Re-write, sure… but never delete.  You wrote something for a reason.  You did something because in the moment you thought it warranted and necessitated, somehow.  Don’t pause, but propel.  Block the negative tremors from your immediacy.  You need be the tsunami of positivity and your own expanse of poetry.  I don’t necessarily find such thinking magical, but I do see it as something worth entertaining.  What’s the worst that could happen.  You make mistakes, maybe even mammoth ones?  So what.  You want to make mistakes.  Mistakes are invitations, often unintentional gifts from you to YOU.  In this new semester, gift yourself with perspective, and a bright understanding that you will make mistakes.

In a lighter light, thank goodness for coffee.  This room I’m in has suddenly fallen to a bit of a chill. Wonder if the AC is on, accidentally, or something.  I sip, and feel evermore ready for the first class.  Only abetting my creative positivism, this morning, since I woke and since getting out of shower and looking at notebook, what I last night jotted about notes and note taking… to always be doing so. More than tireless.  More than fanatical and fervent.  Then, what?  I don’t know.  I don’t have a word, or category for it.  I go blank.  I’m not blocked, just blank.  For a second.  Then another sip and I’m off.

Day 1.  What will life be in Week 18, or whatever the last week is?  We partially demand that now, through our actuations.  On this first day, establish your character.  Be present with all new ideas and words, pieces and practices.  Keep your mind, and the pen, YOU, motioned.  Tell yourself, “GO.” And keep going.  Defy pauses, and stay far from self-doubt’s audits.


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