The art of losing
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I've been thinking about this poem, One Art (by Elizabeth Bishop), a lot these past few days. I like this poem a lot - mostly because what the author is not saying in it. The whole time Bishop list things that she's lost - starting off small (such as keys) to bigger things (like a city) until she mentions a person. Sounding distant, she says it's not a disaster - when really it is.
Transitioning is hard. No matter in what shape or form it comes - it sucks. Even though I feel like I am getting used to moving around every few months, it doesn't make it any easier. I wasn't even in Morton very long and went into it knowing it was transitional time. I know that the transition is coming so it's easy to say that it doesn't feel like disaster.
Grief is sneaky. It finds me in surprising and weird times. Yesterday, it was not until I had been driving for hours. I was already in Kansas. The sky was still a little pink from the setting sun. Coldplay's "Yellow" was playing and suddenly I just lost it. For no reason.
Whenever I go to a new place, I always have a hard time being there. Even though I've been here before, it still is a transition.
and transitions are always hard.
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it might look like (Iwrite it!) like disaster