The Complexity of New Beginnings

There’s a certain irony in the fact that I’m writing this blog on new beginnings late. The fact of the matter is there are certain new beginnings which are guaranteed: the setting and rising of the sun, the beginning of a new year, the change of a season, but there are some new beginnings that creep up on us and take us by surprise, and these can bring with them immense joy or immense pain. New beginnings can also mean closing a chapter that came before and this brings with it all sorts of challenges, be they logistical or emotional; saying goodbye to old friendships, accepting a new role as carer for an elderly parent – these new beginnings feel an awful lot like grief.

Most people equate new beginnings with a new year but as you’ll know if you have read my post on winter, January 1st is a real struggle for me. Rather than wanting to start a fresh, I find myself wanting to hibernate, hide away from the world, step into the new year with a heavy dose of caution. For me, it is this time of year where I feel most ready to embrace newness; I am enticed into new experiences with lighter mornings and birdsong.

One activity I explored with my workshop participants proved particularly fruitful in exploring this theme. The activity involves you picking a significant new beginning and plotting emotions and perspectives along a timeline. You plot words, images and emotions that represent your feelings during the event and then do the same thing looking back to before the event and then again after the event. One participant was able to fully explore her IVF journey through 20 peaceful minutes of plotting to music but it could also be a useful tool to use in character development for fiction writing.

This month’s poetry inspiration comes from the brilliant Lemn Sissay who I had the privilege of listening to during the Faversham Literary Festival a few weeks ago. This poem from his collection of quatrains Let the Light Pour In has really helped me come to terms with some of the big changes that are happening at the moment, so much so that I wrote one of them out and put it on our family notice board so we could all see it every day:

“How do you do it?” said Night

“How do you wake and shine?”

“I keep it simple.” said Light

“One day at a time.”

Because the truth is, despite wanting to jump into this lighter season head first, I’ve never known my head to be in such chaos. The overwhelming productivity of the last few months has led to me entering this new phase of the year unsure of how to put all of my plans into action. Frustrating writers block is interwoven with sudden flashes of inspiration, which leads to me picking up my pen and writing with an urgency that is ultimately unfulfilled as I lose momentum. I procrastinate, leave deadlines to their absolute limit and choose to doom scroll rather than reward myself with time to write and create. Maybe I should take light’s advice and just take it one day at a time.

However, one new beginning I can get excited about is the birth of Ashford’s first spoken word event being held on May 15th at the wonderful Valerie’s. This is something writers in our town have been desperate for, for a long time and I’m thrilled to be hosting it and reading my own work too. The event runs from 7-10, sign up on the night and receive 10% off your drinks for participating. It has given me the push to write something new, although I've also had fun going back through older poetry to see if there's something that might jump out at me. I recently had 3 poems published by Flight of The Dragonfly and I'm thrilled there is now a space in Ashford where I can read these aloud.

This month’s writing prompt is inspired by this poem by Philip Levine I love the way it plays with the structure of the poem to bring clarity to an ambiguous scene. Start writing about an event in your life (don’t think too much about it, just write freely) and then after 2 minutes use the line ‘let me begin again’ and write about the same event but from a different perspective or by revealing new information that you missed out of the first write. Repeat for as long as you feel able to.

This month's cover photo is by the wonderful Paula Flach and is called 'She Collects the Puddles and Lakes She Swims Each Year'. I love the idea of each new beginning being collected almost like a map. You can find this painting and others in the beautiful anthology of women's adventure writing, Waymaking.