the melancholy season of the flowers

spring

Today was warm and filled with blustery light, and the clouds were racing as though late for the future, and it made a drumroll in my heart. Anticipation is building in me. Springtime! As though that is what we have been working towards, all these years. I search and toil and fret and wait and push and then spring! At last! This shows, I think, what a dissonance there is between the life I think I am building and what life really is: an awesome confusion of beauty that is completely out of my control. Can I bring on the springtime? No. Can I make choices so that when springtime comes I am right there with it, and I am ready? Yes.

They say that “fortune favors the brave”. I take this to mean that when you try really hard and don’t give up, the universe notices. The universe has its own algorithms, its own momentum, its google rankings. The universe sees when you try, and when you try harder than, say, most of the people around you, it starts to match you. Well, first it throws obstacles in your way, to try and test you. To see if you’ll give up. And when you don’t give up, when you fight and you kick and you move bravely in the direction of the things that scare you, and you don’t take “no” for an answer, the universe starts to take notice. Here’s a fighter, says the universe. And at some point, the universe begins to match you, ounce for ounce, dollar for dollar.

The universe helps those who help themselves.

I would like to see some data on this.

Also, I talked to my friend Jasper on the phone today. He’s a poet who is terrified of being a poet. He’s coming to visit in March and I suggested that we have a reading while he’s here, and call it “Amateur Poetry Night”. I think poetry is beautiful and ethereal and free but I don’t write poetry; I guess I am afraid to travel outside the safe little square of syntax. I admire people who write poetry because I think that in this day and age, it is a very selfless thing to do. I told Jasper that I could try and write some poetry and we could have an amateur poetry night, and we wouldn’t take it too seriously but then he would read his poetry and maybe it would be transcendent.

Speaking of writing, I’m teaching a class on kindle publishing on February 23rd, here in Portland. I’m going to share everything I’ve learned in about e-book marketing so far, in hopes of helping other little fish like myself sail their small paper boats on the amazonian sea. I’ll be really excited if you come, and if you want to come to the class but don’t live in Portland, don’t worry! Because I’m planning an online class sometime in March and I’ll let you know.

Oh, the beginnings of spring! Little flowers poking up from the soil, my heart cloudy and tumultuous, sediment stirred up and clogging everything. Movement!

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