Other People's Poems

 

Here's what I traditionally do:

• Attempt an impossibly difficult task.
• Fail.
• Use that failure to reinforce my lack of self-worth. Really beat the shit out of myself.
• Repeat as necessary. Repeat when not at all necessary.

Here's what I did last night:

I attended my first Other People's Poems event at Hartford Flavor Company. Participants are welcome to read OPP from a book or printout. I worked all week to memorize mine. Why do the floor exercise when the top of the uneven bars is so much further to fall?

I approached the mic. I was a little anxious, a little distracted. I stumbled a few times. Got through it; performed most of it the way I intended. But I wasn't perfect. It was an apt reflection of me: well-intentioned but noticeably flawed.

I expected to spend the drive home berating myself for being unable to memorize and deliver a simple page of verse. But I didn't.

When I momentarily lost my balance, the group propped me up. They spoke words of understanding, of encouragement. "Take your time." "You got this." 

I could have ignored them, rejected the notion that I might not be utterly fucking useless. Instead, I listened. I closed my eyes, used their positivity to refocus. 

On the drive home I reflected on how this was a community I wanted to be part of. Inclusive. Supportive. Non-Judgmental. Each presenter received the audience's full attention and love. No competition. No winners. No losers. Each presenter had something unique to offer, and was celebrated for it.

Even me.

P!nk sings,

Change the voices in your head.

Make them like you instead.

I wasn't perfect. But, for that brief moment, I was good enough. That's progress. I'll be back next month with a new poem.