Monday, August 9, 2010

meet me in the middle.

it was all beginnings that began in the middle.

i wrote that years ago, in a poem. as poetry goes, it was a way of saying what i was thinking without ever saying it outright. any poet worth her salt would never use the words "fear" or "confusion" or "pain". mind you, writers are taught to show rather than tell. it turns out beautifully on the page. for practiced writers, at least. it makes me wonder if that lesson is just as beautiful in real life, because there are moments when i wish i could live as i write.

i've been thinking about endings and beginnings – they're one in the same. and as soon as i think i've met one, i'm fearful. they are abrupt, ugly. i'd rather light the match, and run. it comes with its own set of problems, never knowing if the bridge has burned. i never know what's next, or what may catch up to me, until i run right into it. in that way, just like my poem said, i am always beginning in the middle. when i wrote that poem, my professor quoted rainer maria rilke on my paper. i can't remember what he said, nor can i find the paper. when i looked for the quote online today, i found this:

It is a tremendous act of violence to begin anything. I am not able to begin. I simply skip what should be the beginning.
- rainer maria rilke

i didn't look any further, because the other quote didn't matter. rilke has been quiet for 85 years, but that didn't matter either. someone else knew the same thing about beginnings as i knew, and that was enough. few things are ever enough.

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