Ragpicker's delight: special grab bag edition

I come from a long line of collectors. Some of them have verged on being hoarders. There is certainly a thin line between being a hoarder and a collector. One person’s closet of trash is another person’s treasure chest.

I recently went home to spend time with my mother, and I watched as she went through some of her things and had such a hard time relinquishing anything. She grew up poor in the Depression, and I think the scarcity of those years became deeply rooted in her psyche.

So deep that she passed on the sense of scarcity to me—and the love of collecting things. I’m a ragpicker by nature, and I often think I should have become a ragpicker by profession.

Or perhaps that’s one definition of being a writer: collecting things, many of which no one wants.

As a result, I think about the nature of keeping things or letting them go. This includes quotes, memories, stories, aspirations, and David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest (which I’ve owned since it was published in the 90s but never read).

Today, I thought I’d toss some things into this grab bag before throwing them away …

Because we hear the call

“Early we receive a call, yet it remains incomprehensible, and only late do we discover how obedient we are.”

~ Czeslaw Milosz

I’m increasingly mystical. I like to listen for calls. But a call always begs the question of whether to follow it or not.

Question for today: What calls are you obeying (or disobeying)? What calls are you perhaps not even listening to?

Because the call is coming from home

“A home is an origin story. A home is a thing to carry. A home is a wild field of energy that floods floods floods. Call me. Call me home.”

~ Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah

Home is one definition of a call. Even if home takes you far away. Another question for today: Where is your home?

Because new worlds

“There is another world, but it is in this one.”

~ Paul Eluard

I think of this quote as every writer’s challenge: we’re writing to reveal a world within a world, a world that others can’t see. A world of silences, of the unsaid. A world that deserves reverence and wonder. Or a world that simply demands exploration.

Because finding God

“If you are searching for God, then you have found him.”

~ Pascal

Or is it like this?

“If you think you have understood God, it is not God.”

~ Augustine

I like thinking of God even though I’m far from being religious. Sometimes literally. Sometimes metaphorically.

Let’s just say God is good at Hide-and-seek. He/she/them exists in uncertainty, so we have to accept uncertainty, live in uncertainty.

God’s lesson: to live a life of connection in separation. This is the definition of all stories, the contradiction that is at the heart of our existence.

How do we reconcile this paradox?

Because poetry’s power is in powerlessness

“People who think poetry has no power have a very limited conception of what power means.”

~ Christian Wiman

In the beginning, there was a poem. In the end, there will be a poem. We know this, right?

Because listening = god and poetry

“As you listen, the particles of sound decide to be heard. Listening affects what is sounding. It is a symbiotic relationship. As you listen, the environment is enlivened. This is the listening effect.”

~ Pauline Oliveros

And the God effect. And the poetry effect. And the power effect.

Because dogs are good for writing

Because cats are … maybe also good for writing

Because I’m teaching a flash fiction class

Hey, I'm looking forward to teaching The Art of the 100-Word Story as part of SmokeLong Quarterly's "March Micro Marathon."

My webinar is on March 2 at noon Eastern. Join me!