Pardon Me, Miss
I Think You're Mistaken
I said to my soul, be still and wait without hope, for hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love, for love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith, but the faith and the love are all in the waiting. Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought: So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.
~T.S.Eliot
Hey T.S. — What?!
Poet’s are so dang annoying because rather than telling us what to think, they invite readers to co-create meaning.
(Huh… Perhaps that’s trust?)
I can totally relate to Eliot’s hesitation regarding hope and love.
Who hasn’t gotten something they longed for and found out it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be?
Where I’ve often been snagged is in the patiently waiting department.
More than a handful of times I picked up a short sleeve of acrylic paints only to get to the register, turn around, and return them to the shelf.
A few months ago I stopped telling myself No! and bought them.
They are bold and bright, contrasting with the soft and muted vision I’ve long held of my self. Kinda like how I used to hate poetry… until I started writing like a poet. 🤷🏻♀️
What if our biggest mistake is…
getting trapped inside of what we think we know?