how come i am so hyper-aware
of every moment in time
and how they will become memories
in the next moment
so much so that, even trying to experience them, i am often thinking
fifteen minutes[at least] into the future
i feel like i was barely in the moment
of looking forward to this trip
and only in it
for half a second
and now i’m back
and looking back on
experiences i know took time to have
but now they live only in my
memory
i’m writing so much
but i have so little to show for it
for it’s all poem-to-do-lists
and commentary on previous writing
and ideas for future writing
and i would like to stick to today
from this moment on, okay?
characterizing my own self
pathologizing
my past
my future
but never my present
because my present is too overthought
to be anything but
half a moment in the past
or a half a worry
about the future
we get through
not just day by day
but moment by moment
knowing not only
that each moment passes
but also
each moment
is its own universe entirely
moments hold multitudes
i feel like i have
whatever’s opposite of taking things
for granted
like i hold things as too precious
so as to prepare myself for the day
they are gone
[neither of these approaches
really help with
living in the moment though]
i am often obsessed
with the temporary temporality of things
having seen what i thought to be permanent
snatched from me in less than a moment
while my eyes were blinking
while i turned away…
i’ve heard a great calmness can come
from seeing where you are
in the “grand scheme” of the universe
and admitting to
the smallness of self.
but for me, it was always about control—
the bigger the universe,
the harder it would be to put my mark on it
and i’ve always admitted to expecting from myself
the impossible.
but just now
i saw my two anxieties
come together in a release:
this home we love
and fill with stuff that does spark joy
is temporary
and someday it will be gone
and our sun will explode
and this planet will become nothingness once more
so it doesn’t really matter
if we put a bunch of mismatched plants around our windows
to give ourselves some tiny fraction of dopamine,
it doesn’t matter if we have
the cleanest house or
the perfect background for tiktoks or not;
whatever brings us joy
in this moment
is all that matters
because it could be gone—
it will be gone eventually—
so this moment
is all that matters
this moment
is all that matters
whatever makes us happy
and enjoy this planet
in this moment
is all that matters
(and if we leave the planet
a little better
a little more sustainable
a little bit happier
for the generations to come,
not only will that give to others,
it will also set
our souls
at ease
far more than the stress of
being a household name
or keeping everything given
or being perfect in anything at all
would
in this moment
in future moments
in any moment.)
find things to write
in the mundane
it’s in the big ideas
that get you overwhelmed,
you question word-choice
you panic about phrasing
your anxiety gets entirely in your way
to convey
the fullness of the subject matter
with delicate balance
between
accuracy
and
kind capacity
no matter the big subject
but you thrive in the little things
a whole sonnet about a cup of coffee
an ode to names and nicknames
silly little poems
ones that your spouse enjoys the most
ones that get the most “likes”
but i know you
(i mean, technically, i am you,
that is the whole point of this silly little poem,
i’m talking to myself
simply using the tactic of calling me ‘you’
so maybe, when i re-read it, it’ll feel like someone else is talking to me)
but, i know you,
i know that you contemplate the big subjects
you’re drawn to them
you can’t help but think of them
in fits and starts poetically
but also
the more i learn about mortality
the more i realize
there will never be a “perfect opportunity”
a day when all the stars align
and you’ll be able to churn out that “big poem”
in all the right words
and all the right phrasings,
but also,
there is something to say for practice
and following the dopamine
and writing what feels right in that moment,
so maybe that’s why
instead of writing about a big thing
or writing of the mundane
again today,
i’ve thought to write a letter
in poem form
to let you know
it’s ok
to write
what you’re feeling
in the moment…
(isn’t that the goal,
the whole ‘in the moment’ living?
right?)
kipventures 