One Art

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

– Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.

(Elizabeth Bishop)

Busy busy busy busy busy.

Work, study, coach, take meetings, schedule, liaise, shmooze. Offices, gyms, schools. Bars, parties, cocktails. Fill the day to overflowing. Designate every second you can. Fry your synapses, or at least try to occupy them. Maybe if there is enough music, enough meaningless conversation, enough things to do and places to be, you’ll forget. If you can cut down the moments of silence you can prevent introspection, and hopefully if you stop thinking about it, it will hurt less and maybe, maybe one day it will not hurt at all. Falling asleep and just waking are vulnerable times. Lacking a task, the thoughts crowd in unimpeded. That’s why it’s best to be utterly exhausted at night and practically vault out of bed in the morning. Whenever you lie around too long you’ll be forced to confront your suppressed musings. You’ll palpate the margins, poking at it apprehensively. There will be a slow sinking as you realize things are not better, that there appear to be no limits on how long you will go on feeling this. But eventually you get up, because even if you’re not better life can’t come to a standstill. After all, you’re busy.

Chant it like a mantra. “I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.” It would be ungracious to not be fine, right? There are so many things going on, things to achieve, work to be done…you’re so busy. Smile bright for the camera baby. Whisper to yourself that you don’t care. Something else will happen along, always does. Any day now. Until then just mark time. I’m not ever sad. I don’t feel anything.

I don’t care.

I’m busy.

I’m fine.