About Me

One of the thoughts that sticks with me whenever I am typewriting is the very miracle of words. We string together random sounds and syllables, attach mutated Phoenician symbols to those sounds, pack all that into a mechanical beast of springs & levers, and suddenly are able to create anything from shopping lists to inauguration poetry.

Miracles like these surround us - the divine in the everyday, the “other side of the tapestry” as Alan Watts says, that “our ordinary everyday consciousness leaves out.” And when we fail to see these miracles, we fail to see the goodness of our reality. When gratitude and wonder disappears, so rises a crisis of meaning as mental health challenges spike, polarization increases, and we forget some of the things that make us amazingly, beautifully human.

My favorite quote is from the Catholic monk Thomas Merton, who recalls an experience he had when he says:

When I think about my own journey, I find that I am writing to remind myself, again and again, of the fact above. I started writing poetry when I was young to process rejection, and then later depression and anxiety. I filled notebooks and notebooks with dark poetry long before I ever lugged a metallic antique onto the Winchester street. All that writing honed my skills, helping me write quicker on-the-fly and learn more about how to use rhyming and rhythm to describe difficult moments.

This isn’t even to say that dark poetry is bad - it is important for each poet to tell the story of the truth in his or her own way, and many literary journals and magazines currently grapple with the crisis of our time and place. However, after a stint blogging about religion and politics, I found that most people spent their time focusing on the conflict, the culture war and chaos. I also was unable to get published: my writing was too personal, and I just didn’t fit into that world. Hence, I took words straight to the people, busking on the street, direct to the consumer, forcing myself to mine musings for smiles over salaciousness. In this process, I found that the answer can be found in joy and whimsical wonder, even a little frivolous entertainment. As one of my poems says, “I used to write dark poems/dark poems/dark poems/but with some fine editing/I’ve begun to see/the light.”

I used to think writers create to necessarily write something new, always pushing the line of originality. While they do, I’ve come to realize they write because they just need to create. Something in the heart calls to paint the picture. Why do we do anything that we do? Whether it is for a smile or for the greater glory of God, we are playing with our lucky, lively existence - a fact lost when we don’t see how we all truly are “shining like the sun.”

But, as Merton says, that isn’t something I can just tell you. It is something you realize, whether by grace or chance, in the way the clouds of banality part and let a ray of beauty into our lives. Maybe you see it when beholding a flower, a child, a friend. Maybe you find it in the great beliefs of science and theology. Maybe you find it in a little café in the hills. Maybe, even, you find it when you hear a street poet celebrate your life in brand-new verse. But, even if you haven’t found it yet, never stop searching.

May you find, in your own way, that you are shining like the sun.

Copyright (c) 2021 Walking Mall Poet.

PS - If you have any questions about what I do, you can always visit my FAQ page!