devotion, not discipline

to the things that put thunder in my blood

Before writing today’s letter I passed my bookshelf. My hand found Volume II of Anaïs Nin’s diary, its spine a cracked, sun-bleached peach. I carried it to my desk like a talisman. The pages flopped open at these words:

It was only a letter, but I can say the same of all I write. This is only a journal. Most of my work is only fragments, attempts, only poems. But in some mysterious way I find that I pour my whole heart and soul into each of these “onlies“. Who can say why?

Her words reminded me of the difference between devotion and discipline. What brings me to write these letters every Thursday, even when they drive me crazy? It’s not a grindingly strict routine. Instead, it’s the rasp of irresistible whispers calling me to the hidden corners of my soul.

I am devoted to a few core things that mellow my heart and put thunder in my blood. Like being in love. Like listening to what silver-tongued dusk whispers to my soul. Like devoting my twenties to collecting and obsessively reading the diaries of a kindred spirit:

I am devoted to savouring little things, like sitting cross-legged on the kitchen counter and enjoying a fragrant pear without distractions. I am devoted to writing them down to somehow “taste life twice”.

They’re only words. It’s only a pear. Only the moon.

Only me.

Yet devotion makes life worthy of embrace. Ordinary days become replete with meaning. My world expands. I find treasures that bring me closer to the mysterious silence that breathes and blinks under my skin.

Today is my birthday. Only another year older. Yet there are blush-pink chrysanthemums on my desk. My favourite song playing. The promise of a day spent in the company of lochs and harebells.

Today, I pour my heart and soul into thirty-four.

Are you a fan of devotion or discipline? I’m also curious to know how you choose to celebrate your birthday!

As always, thank you for reading one of my “onlies”.

Kate xx