What I did not realize was just what a class in poetry would do to any interest I had in it. I did not realize how little I would appreciate tearing apart the dynamics of a poem. Did I have to know what they were called to appreciate the poem? The fact is, it had quite the opposite effect.
I also did not appreciate the fact that there seemed to be only one way to interpret a poem, and often poems were filled with apparent metaphors. Was a cloud ever just a cloud, or was it always meant to be depression or sadness?
I found myself wondering what the poets would think of those who tore their work apart in such an analytical way. I also wondered if they'd agree with the interpretations.
Mid-course I walked away. I don't remember how it came about, or even why I was allowed to do it, but I did. I did not know what the repercussions would be, but I just really did not care.
One of the administration at some point asked me what we were going to do about it. I said I figured I'd get an incomplete. I was told they did not give incompletes. Well, then, I guess an "f," I said plainly and calmly.
That moment with the administrator was one I never forgot. I never really thought about my reaction at the time (at least not that I remember). It just felt somehow right. Somehow I had felt like I had done the right thing, and I was completely Ok with it.
I am reminded of this tonight as I am reading a book by Wayne Dyer. He speaks of the many times he thought differently than others. He references a time he got a D in a class. In some ways, it was undeserved, but from what he learned from it, it sounds like he believed it deserved after all. The D was the only mark of its sort in his college career. The F I received was my only one in school.
For both of us, even though the circumstances were different, it would seem the grade came from thinking outside of the expectations of others.
He says over and over how he resisted going with conformity. It sometimes got him into trouble, but it also seems to have been a significant piece of who he was, and his message. It seems to have been important to who he became on a grander scale.
It makes me wonder what my moments of resistance to things have meant. I haven't always had the courage to be who I wanted to be, but there were other times I just did what felt like what needed to be done...regardless of the consequences. Some times were harder than others. Some were calmer and clearer. Some times I just "knew" it was what I had to do, even if illogical, and made no sense to anyone else.
Even my life now is an example of that. I feel compelled to speak out on stuff in a way I never really see others do. I sometimes say things and wonder if I should really say "that," but I still do.
The idea of conforming to suit another does not work for me. It never really did before, either, but it didn't mean I didn't sometimes try to be some other way to suit another. It really never worked.
I no longer have the energy to try. And I would say that is probably a good thing. At least - for me. I know several people who are no where near as appreciative of this fact as I am.
Maybe there will come a time the pieces will all come together and make sense. Right now I just have pockets of things that mean something in the moment in which they lived. I have an occasional glimpse of what it all might mean as a whole, but a glimpse is all I seem to get
I, of course, see patterns. I see how if things had gone differently, my life could have looked a whole lot different. But how it all brings me to this me, this moment...well...I am working on it. Or maybe it is more accurate to say it's working on me?
There are things Wayne talks about that I am not so sure I believe. I had backed away from him and a lot of the kinds of things that I now question.
His recent death had me looking at him/his work again, and the book I am reading stands out. It stands out not so much for the you "create your own reality" stuff, but rather for what his sharing helps me to identify for myself.
I also love that he is a huge proponent of people thinking for themselves, which is exactly what I do every time I question something someone else speaks as "truth." I think there is an irony, though, in how many approach his work, as it seems to be with a great acceptance, and without questioning.
It is late, and I am contemplating some deep thoughts. It is kind of like eating a big meal before bed. Although I am tired. Maybe I will get lucky, and be able to sleep any way. <huge yawn>.