Why there is beauty in confusion

Something a bit different this week. And some news...

Hello all,

I’m taking a little bit of a break today. The truth is I’ve been doing edits to my book manuscript and so am absolutely exhausted. (And a piece written for you by an exhausted me is going to be of very poor quality. And frankly not what you deserve.)This book has been a long time in the ‘cerebral-making’ , which is to say I’ve been thinking about it for many years. I played around with it a little in this piece 18 months ago, which, when picked up by The Times, went somewhat viral. (A horrible word, but I think there is no other way to describe the urgent passing on of something across the internet.)

The book is very much in its ‘secrecy’ phase; which is another way of saying it’s not even with publishers yet but I wanted to share this with you so you can see and understand the process. The truth is it may not even get picked up by anyone- and that in itself is a wonderful thing to share, I think.

Anyway, a big part of the book is looking at confusion and the angst that can bring when everyone around you seems to have clarity on their direction in life. I spent years swimming around in circles trying to figure out whether I wanted to be a mother or not. It felt like a slow, painful drowning at times, especially as everyone around me moved on with such such certainty.

But looking back now I see the gift confusion can offer. How it can open up questions that some never get to answer. (This is a complete privilege by the way.) And in answering those questions you start to find new ideas about who you might become.

This poem by Theodore Roethke explains it much more eloquently than I ever could and so I wanted to share it with you all today, in the hope that if any of you are searching for answers, know that not having any can in fact be the answer you are looking for.

The Waking by Theodore Roethke

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.

Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me; so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.