‘Oh, every poet knows that!’ I thought at first, seeing this presented as a writing prompt.
But I dunno. It’s true that constraints, such as the strictures of particular forms, can lead to better ways of saying things than one might have found without them – but that’s not quite the same thing as freedom.
It’s true, as poets know, that so-called ‘free verse’ isn’t really free. It has its own requirements, which must be taken into account; it isn’t just chopped-up prose. Sometimes it’s even harder work than formal poetry.
When it comes to the whole of life, it’s the same: there’s no real freedom – not big, overall, absolute freedom. We have some degree of freedom, depending on the legal system where we live. It’s true that the discipline of staying within the law allows for the freedom to live our lives without hindrance – well, except for the hindrances of poverty, social class, health problems, natural disasters, wars, the criminal actions of those who break the laws…. But mostly we can go about our business fairly freely because of the imposed discipline of the law.
We internalise this from an early age, with the help of parents and teachers, so it becomes self-discipline. We just don’t do things we’ve been taught we shouldn’t. (Until we do. Temptations happen to us all. Small infractions we may even get away with, though it’s not guaranteed.)
So freedom is limited, by social agreement. But within that agreement, self-discipline (one might argue) is what gives us our freedom.
Nah! Me, I’m exceedingly undisciplined. I don’t break laws but I lack self-discipline. I just spent most of two days listening to an audio book.*
What gave me this freedom? Old age.
I get the Age Pension. I don’t have to work.
There are things I need to do, such as household jobs (but the heavy ones are done for me via an agency) and book marketing (but I can defer that for a day or two).
What about lack of exercise limiting my health? Hey, I walk around the house. Anyway, lifelong athletes often end up as unfit as sedentaries like me, if in different ways.
Truly, what freedom I have lives in self-indulgence.
Written for Friday Writings #115 at Poets and Storytellers United.
Form: essay. OK, that's not a poetic form nor is this a poem. I gave myself a year to play with poetic forms, but this month I and many others are practising haiku and/or senryu every day, to prompts, for NaHaiWriMo ... and I thought it was a long time since I wrote an essay. Given our P&SU word limit of 369, I guess you could call it a mini-essay.
* The Other Bennett Sister [i.e.Mary Bennett] by Jane Hadlow.
LONG! Over 18 hours! (I love a good long read. Or in this case a listen.) Also she gets the Austen tone and language down perfectly, and includes some wonderful tongue-in-cheek literary and other allusions, as well as telling an enthralling tale.
My dad walked in his basement, around and around the propane furnace. Quite a long spell, I am not sure he walked 30 minutes for at least five days a week. But he lived to be 97. I probably won't live that long, he lived a better life than I have. Coming to our Sunday morning Bible study class there were four of us age 90. But yesterday we went to his funeral, his 91 BDay would have been this March. Only we three now. So hang in there!!
ReplyDelete..
Thank you, Jim. Hanging in as hard as I can. Got another book to write!
DeleteNever thought about poetry in terms of discipline and freedom... but more often than even before, I find myself self-censoring... knocking out entire verses...changing words... there are boundaries, real or imagined, because of who we are, where we are and the way we are... I'm building the discipline to write as best as I can, notwithstanding..... but yeah, am not so good at that :)
ReplyDeleteYou surprise me! Your work always seems to me very well crafted. Some of us have an instinctive grasp of that (akin to an ear for music); others, like myself, have to work at it. I think it's always good to be exacting with oneself when it comes to writing – though it is also possible to go too far and revise the life out of it. But then, it is sometimes necessary to go too far in order to find out where the line is.
DeleteWhen the poems are about what's happening in the world, I think, I do a lot more editing... be a little more careful and sensible... but if I think I've revised the life out of it...I find I have to throw it away and start again - try a different approach. Sigh.
DeleteInteresting read, Rosemary. The levels of freedom depend on where we're standing; when in a box, freedom is getting out. But we're all always dependent on something and someone somewhere. As for the art/craft of writing, I suspect the more effortless the prose appears the more effort went into it. :)
ReplyDeleteI suspect you're right.
DeleteThat's an interesting take. LOL, I trick myself into getting chores done by thinking about how free my brain will feel not having the annoyance of needing to get something done squirming around inside it. Freedom may be a construct, but it can be a damned helpful one for me when I play with it just right. :D
ReplyDeleteThat's a good trick!
DeleteI'm thinking short essay too, for this prompt. This is a good one.
ReplyDeleteThank you!
DeleteThoroughly enjoyed this, Rosemary. Like you, I tend to lean in the undisciplined direction AND appreciate that about myself. I love it about you.
ReplyDeleteAh, I think it's long been clear we're somewhat of 'sisters under the skin,' you and I.
DeleteInteresting Rosemary. Being older has it's perks. In particular, the freedom from the grind of working for somebody else. Too bad we have to wait so long to experience it. That freedom to delve into our creative sides. I guess I'm a bit of a undisciplined writer, especially in the way I approach the novel. Outline? Egads! No!
ReplyDeleteLOL! Similarly for outlining memoir – oh no, let it pour!
DeleteUndisciplined is more fun! If we have to age, let's get the most out of it.
DeleteI love what. you wrote.
Oh yes, I'm all for having as much fun as possible!
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