The seat-mate was a year younger than I am, and thus we are both fairly fresh out of school (I can't believe it has been five years since I was headed over to England to start my master's degree - seems downright impossible!). Carrying on that mindset ingrained by following one routine for 23 years, fall is still a time of new beginnings and fresh starts for me, even more so than spring or summer. I spent the last few weeks of August doing a Mad Men inspired fall cleaning/reorganization/sprucing-up of my apartment all in anticipation of cooler nights and spending more time staring at my walls come winter.
In the spirit of fresh starts, I often make fall resolutions - new pursuits, routines, and behaviors that I hope to undertake as I transition out of summer mode. It is very possible that all of this is also tied into Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, but whatever the reason I make these resolutions, I was fascinated to find that I am not the only one that does so. In fact, the concept of fall resolutions and the fact that Labor Day weekend is the perfect time to make them is one of the topics which my JetBlue seat-mate and I discussed as we winged our way between the wild blue yonders of sea and sky.
I haven't got my whole resolution list firmed up yet. However, I know I want to continue keeping my schedule more chilled out than it has been in the past. I did a good job with that this summer, and hopefully I can restrain myself from being completely overwhelmed by concerts this fall and winter as well. I also want to continue to take classes at Brooklyn Brainery in an effort to find inspiration and try new things. Most importantly though, I want to start doing some creative writing again. The problem is, I just haven't been inspired in that area, especially when it comes to writing poetry, for quite some time.
In an effort to remedy this problem, my first hard-core fall resolution for this year is to read a poem every night before I go to bed (this is also an effort to create a routine around sleep so that maybe I can get more of it on a regular basis). I have several volumes of poetry that have been sitting at the ready on my bed-side table for ages, and yet I never open them. That changed last night when I cracked open Frank O'Hara's Meditations In An Emergency (another Mad Men inspired addition to my life) and read "To the Harbormaster." This is such a beautiful poem, and it fits perfectly with the nautical theme that has been running through my life (or at the very least my tee shirts and bracelets) this summer. I ended up reading the poem three times before I put it away and crawled under my Pottery Barn patchwork blanket. It's going to be a good fall.
To the Harbormaster
Frank O'Hara
I wanted to be sure to reach you;
though my ship was on the way it got caught
in some moorings. I am always tying up
and then deciding to depart. In storms and
at sunset, with the metallic coils of the tide
around my fathomless arms, I am unable
to understand the forms of my vanity
or I am hard alee with my Polish rudder
in my hand and the sun sinking. To
you I offer my hull and the tattered cordage
of my will. The terrible channels where
the wind drives me against the brown lips
of the reeds are not all behind me. Yet
I trust the sanity of my vessel; and
if it sinks, it may well be in answer
to the reasoning of the eternal voices,
the waves which have kept me from reaching you.
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