Be Brave. Be a Poet.

Renee Nicole Good was, among other things, a poet.

It takes courage to be a poet.

Why? Because when you write poetry, you are attempting to understand what’s not easy to understand, the hidden, mysterious places in yourself and the world. You are rejecting the idea that capitalism is religion, that working, buying, and spending are the meaning of life. Poems are notorious for not making the poet any money, but poets write them anyway.

It’s scary to use words to find your own meaning, to choose complexity and uncertainty—those chewy, sustaining foods—over the chemical-laden over-simplified cliches our culture tries to force-feed us. Others may not understand why you spend hours listing metaphors, making notes, revising the end so it goes towards something fresh, arresting.

And then, if you’re brave enough to share your poems with others, you face rejection of this creation that feels inseparable from your very soul.

I’m watching the horrors of what’s happening in the US from the relative peace and safety of rural Scotland. I am not an activist; that kind of courage is beyond me. But I urge you all to be poets. To be brave enough to write (and/or make any kind of art) so as to keep alive the best parts of humanity.

Be brave, like Renee Nicole Good. Be a poet.

NOTES FROM SCOTLAND

On January 2nd, I saw a shooting star. I had walked out back with my dog, Duncan, partly to cool off due to a hot flash (thank you, menopause?) and the spark traveled from overhead to in front of me, over the fields beyond my back garden, then disappeared. It was so fast, I almost didn’t believe I’d seen it. Then I thought it might be from fireworks. Then I knew what I’d seen. A shooting star, a meteor from the Quadrantid meteor shower. It’s been years since I’ve seen one. Maybe it’s a sign of something good for us all.