June Hunt, who has a dynamic Christian counseling program online and on the radio in many cities, has said that depression can be pictured as a heavy weight on the heart, like a brick on a pillow. If it lies there too long, the pillow may not take its old shape anymore.
When I met June she was so kind and joyous with me, but I could tell she wondered why I couldn’t at all bring that energy to her, despite my love for her.
She asked me my name and I told her, they call me it, which. Or they did. They said I was a preposition. Then I found out my name meant happy, but I almost never am – maybe someday, I said.
What device does nature have to enlarge our sense? What things strewn on our path give us pause and help us answer the questions we’ve been collecting? I know these things happen sometimes in conversation. That is how women are heart doctors.
This post is not meant to be an elaborate psychoanalysis. I just wanted to say that my customary grief and heaviness seems somehow to be surfacing in my writing in a new way. Instead of writing poems that labor to express the whole burden of the sadness, as with some elegies, or sad love poems, here it seems like something fresh and living is sprouting from the old grief, like loam rich with black manure. The outward ornament is broken through, there is more wholeness psychologically to the writing, and a plainer style. Other styles are still cropping up, but with some of these new pieces there seems to be a natural mystery poking through. Instead of being “good with words” or “phrasing”, which is nice, these prefer something else, and I am realizing now that phrasing and such just doesn’t get one very far in real poetry.
And I am not very far. However, perhaps it will help to gravitate to where the writing wants to go, and learn from there. James Wright is a great champion in this plain style. He learned to repose on the facts of his lived experience as charged content the reader would find worthwhile. It is amazing that he does not just try to make himself goofy or puff himself with horror or any type of enhancer, but trusts in the plain truth.