Ceremony of Longing

"Often I see myself hiding inside myself

wondering how many biographies of pain

will I see as my own."

 

It’s almost a cliché to say that we are much more the reaction then what we are in the action. It is not ideal, but it is a reality. Our lives are touched at a million sensory points throughout the day. Stories, requests, exhortations, kindnesses, things we say which boomerang, acts we do which come back to us as benediction. We are an amalgam of what we give and what we get - and what we make of all of it for ourselves. 

 

And what drives us ever so often is longing. A longing to connect, a longing to be the chosen one, a longing, very often, to be at the wrong end of the stick, but to have known that we were, in some way, the chosen one. And in that recognition often lies the leitmotif of our lives. How can we transverse this earth without being noticed? Without knowing that we meant for something. Knowing that what we wrote, thought, said, did, did make a difference. 

 

Our lives then are a combination of curiosity, creation and craving. Our connections build on that. There’s nothing extraordinary which our lives then seek. Just that we notice, get noticed - and find out peace in that ordinariness. 

 

Note - The name of the poem is named after a performance piece curated by the exceptional dancer Diya Naidu

 

If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems on questions relating to the meaning of longing and attention -

• On Some Additions to Introspective Psychology
• An Onanist's Guide to Loneliness
• Favourite People (Who We Love & Leave)

Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup.

Get in touch with me on uncutpoetrynow@gmail.com

Subscribe to my incandescent and poetic newsletter The Uncuts here - https://theuncuts.substack.com.

 

 

The details of the music used in this episode are as follows -

 Music: Sleepers by Sascha Ende

Free download: https://filmmusic.io/song/3232-sleepers
License (CC BY 4.0): https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
Artist website: https://www.sascha-ende.de