Turning my face towards the rain
On sitting in the discomfort of it all, next co-writing date and some nice things coming up
Much like the rest of the country, it has not stopped raining in Cornwall since the beginning of the year… In fact, I can’t actually remember a single day when we have not had rain. Around us the fields are waterlogged, many of my bulbs have rotted and I simply cannot seem to escape the mud and potholes that now decorate our lane.
They say water always finds a way. Unluckily for me, no matter how appropriately dressed or equipped I am, water manages to sneak down my neck, soak up my sleeves and socks and seep into my edges.
Normally, I pull up my boots, do up my coat and keep on, keeping on.
Normally, I fix a smile on my face and rise above the rain.
Normally, the eternal optimist and pragmatist within gives me a firm talking to and tells me to get over my own bulls$%t…
But, and I truly hate to admit this, I have found the start to this year, bone-achingly bleak and at times, pretty darn lonely.
The poet in me always seeks to pay close attention, to look at what is right in front of me, to write to remind myself of the beauty in this world.
The poet in me, seeks to reframe the rain, to find another angle, to feel my way through with words, to say aloud the otherwise unsaid. To find form and give voice to those unexpected utterances and whispers of the soul that simmer and swirl beneath.
And yet, right now, my words are missing…
Instead, everything feels like a notebook left out in the rain with smudged ink and soggy edges.
I don’t think I can simply blame the weather (as much as I would love to), it’s the relentlessness of the news, it’s the perpetual state of precarity many face (hello four day jobs), it’s the cacophony of ‘content’ and the pervasive sense of loneliness and loss of community… It makes me question, how can we all hold so much?
How can we bear daily witness to global atrocities and abject suffering?
How can we live with the knowledge that so many things are rotten and corrupt? (Indeed this space, no longer feels like the right place for me to be and means I will be moving elsewhere soon.)
How can we exist on a planet that is advancing and accelerating at an unprecedented rate and yet simultaneously crumbling and collapsing?
It feels like we’re riding a never-ending rollercoaster that is still being built. Each twist and turn, unknown and unmapped… And quite frankly, in this very moment, I feel unable to endure the ride.
I worry that we were simply not built for this, that we find ourselves existing in a time and space where so much suffering is livestreamed, and yet, we are so far removed from each other and unable to act. I question repeatedly, how I can meaningfully engage in the world and how can I hold on during this white knuckle ride…
Part of me just wants to duck out and pull a blanket over my head.
Yet, I simply cannot let the weight of the despair tip me over.
I can’t hide from the rain or close my eyes on this rollercoaster ride.
I can’t let those around me down by checking out or turning my gaze away.
Instead, I have to sit in the discomfort of being cold and soggy right now. I have to face the rain and move with the twists and the turns and remind myself there is so much worth fighting for.
I have to pick up my pen, buckle up my seatbelt and brace myself again.
Next co-writing date | 27th February
It has been such a delight running these sessions recently and thank you so much to everyone who has joined me in recent weeks.
The next session takes place on 27th February and it will be the last one for a while as I am undertaking a very exciting Writing Residency in March and have a number of other work commitments that month. I have plans afoot for more soon, so do bear with me
Link for the next session
Friday 27th February 9:15 -10:30 UK Time
These sessions are free to join but should you wish to make a donation, you are so welcome to. Any donations are so gratefully received and will go towards supporting my work and helping me make these sessions sustainable and accessible to all.
Some lovely things coming up…
Join me in person at The Writers’ Block on 25th March from 18:00 - 20:00 for a very special workshop on Permission to Play: Building creative resilience and finding joy
Wed 25 March | 18:00 - 20:00 | The Writers’ Block, Redruth | Free but please book
Struggling to find joy in your creative practice?
Feeling a little lost following writing rejection?
Or perhaps you just need some permission to play?
Come join us for our next Writers’ Block Network event on cultivating creative resilience whilst holding on to a sense of ‘play’ in our practice.
Writing can be very solitary, but it doesn’t have to be lonely. In this uplifting and engaging session, we will explore what play looks like in our writing practice, where we can find joy and how we can build up a sense of creative resilience.
Full details can be found here.
The Launceston Poetry Festival is back this May! Don’t miss this absolutely stellar line-up of speakers, workshops and much more.
And lastly, don’t miss this wonderful Short Story Competition from Fowey Literary Festival the theme is ‘After Midnight’ and entries close on 20th March.