NaPoWriMo 2012: eight

I Go Back to Cali, July 1994

I see me sitting in her room, writing.
You've arrived in the next room
and I can hear the greetings exchanged.
I've only met one of your group,
her ex, and though I'm looking forward
to hanging out with more of her friends,
I need to write. I write three pages a day,
every day, and even though I try to write
in the morning, I hadn't gotten to it yet
and I know I won't have time later. 

I see myself finish. Satisfied that I kept
my habit. I see myself pause and walk
out the door to her room onto the threshold.

I see you.
                I see you.
                               And you saw me, my love,
who has been my love all these years since.

And it wouldn't really start for another month,
but that night was the sacred beginning
and without it we wouldn't be here, he
wouldn't be here, and while the world would
have kept spinning, anyway, kept going,
our orbit would never have been the same
the world would never have been the same.


With all proper respect and credit to Sharon Olds and LL Cool J for inspiring the title (and from the poem, the form, somewhat). Sharon Old's poem is written from the perspective of the child (from a disastrous marriage); here, my intent is to subvert that by writing from the perspective of the inside (and from the perspective of what has most decidedly not been a disastrous marriage, quite the opposite in fact).

Sharon Olds' poem (please read it) is a classic: beautiful and raw and amazing. By adding my perspective (and subverting it to my POV) I am in no way shape or form comparing her poem to mine. I used it as a prompt (and also the LL Cool J song which has been in my head since I was in middle school).

The shoes in the photo are our son's and two of his (many) grandparent's, taken while we were in Cali two months ago. I thought that was fitting, since it is his birth that is the culmination of the events in the poem.

The three pages I wrote every day during that period of my life (and many other periods in my life, including now, although I'm more on again off again than I used to be) are from the practice of morning pages, inspired by Julia Cameron's book, The Artists Way. Obviously, I have not always written them in the morning; I have infused the practice with my own lifestyle over the years (and I am not a morning person).

I have written about how I met my husband before and I am sure I will write about it again, for it is one of those events which has an impact that reverberates into space and time. Mostly for the three of us, but for those that are on the edges of our lives as well. This is true of everyone's lives, of the events that reverberate. Even the smallest moment can change everything. Just walking into a room and seeing a new person, that can change the universe.