I gave blood today. Literally. But before that, I was already feeling rather anemic as I listened to my talented poet friends read their hit-it-out-of-the-park poems. Especially when I then read my feeble attempt. I realize this sounds very woe-is-me, but it's just that I could see a real difference between where they were with their work and where I was today. I'm not smart enough to do this, I thought.
But I also thought that I have a choice: I could take that feeling of inadequacy and the probably-disproportionate low self-image, throw my hands in the air, have a little pity party with little pity party piñatas and pity party cupcakes and punch, or regard the experience as something that can be a teacher. (Actually, the pity party cupcakes might have helped with any low-blood-sugar contributing to the feelings...)
After the poetry zoom session, I walked for an hour to D's work to pick up the car so I could get S. from work and then go to the blood donation, and for the whole walk (actually, much of it was a jog, because I was late), I thought about how I could improve that inferior poem. And I thought about other poems I want to write. And how they could be better. So I guess for better or worse, I'm not ready to throw in the virtual towel yet.
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