I am now a week into my second (I believe) attempt to write a poem a day for April. I did it at least once before, but this year I’m feeling a little more focused.
April is a difficult month for creating habits because the school year is winding down, but there is still just enough left to be annoying. In reality, there’s still a quarter of the year left, but everyone is acting like we’re all done.
The weather is being annoying. It’s too chilly to sit out on the porch, which is where I prefer to be, but it’s above freezing and the suggestion from the weather predictors is that we’re done with snow for the season. Grass has returned, and I’ll probably have to mow the lawn soon enough.
I’m feeling myself, writing these poems, hitting a block again. It feels like mental constipation, like I have so much built up that I want to say that it’s all mashed together in a big mess. I want this month’s collection to be developed into something real, and I want to stop talking myself out of it.
I saw a TikTok today of someone who wants their puppet to become the next big thing for children’s educational television, and at first I chuckled at their naivete, but I caught myself: Why not? Where have my own dreams gone? What is the real difference between successful creators and people who let their dreams languish?
I’m good enough to be known. I’m important enough to be relevant. I just need to convince myself to complete the follow-though. And stop whining.