Veneration & Virtuosity

From my  highly esteemed  private phone notes collection. A reflection on the discomfort of living in a culture that venerates hyper-productivity, and, as a result, always feeling like you haven’t done enough, aren’t skilled enough, or there aren’t enough hours in a day. Photo from Woodstockings.

From my highly esteemed private phone notes collection. A reflection on the discomfort of living in a culture that venerates hyper-productivity, and, as a result, always feeling like you haven’t done enough, aren’t skilled enough, or there aren’t enough hours in a day. Photo from Woodstockings.

Always trying to do so much,

But I am a stranger to everything

I close my eyes, I am out of touch—

A jack of all trades,

But a master of nothing

The tourist wanders aimless,

Relegated to the wings

Veneration and virtuosity,

I became obsessed when I saw him scoffing on the TV.

I’m told it’s not skill or precocity,

But ambition and wild grandiosity

There must be something beyond what the eye perceives—

A spirit possessed by pure ferocity.

I must pacify my sense of self-mediocrity

Try to teach myself, but it’s all rudimentary 

My patience withers with every word I read

It takes time, I know

If only I could let go

If I dissolve my need to be clever

Simply propelled by sheer curiosity

Will I prevail?

Excel with greater velocity?

I should drop my desire for mastery,

Best to create unfettered and honestly 

My emotional landscape is littered with landmines 

One wrong exhale

And I am prepared to deface

Constantly derailed by destructive tendencies, 

Shadows that shroud a tender place

Veneration and virtuosity,

I became obsessed when I saw him scoffing on the TV

I’m told it’s not skill or precocity,

But ambition and wild grandiosity

There must be something beyond what the eye perceives—

A spirit possessed by pure ferocity 

I must pacify my sense of self-mediocrity

Try to teach myself, but it’s all rudimentary 

My patience withers with each word I read

It takes time, I know

If only I could let go

I’ve deemed guilt the opposite of gratitude

Soothe myself, accept what is, and let grow 

So all these hours of producing nothing

Allow seeds unseen to sow

It takes time, I know

If only I could let go