It’s been a long time since I’ve had an epiphany (from the ancient Greek ἐπιφάνεια, epiphanea, "manifestation, striking appearance" is an experience of a sudden and striking realization). This used to happen to me all the time. I would be walking Amstel or doing something completely mundane and the solution to a problem or a creative idea would come to me all of a sudden, almost as if it was downloaded into my brain.
Well, last night I had one. I stepped out of the house to take Amstel on his last long walk of the day and was greeted by the most striking sunset on the mountains. Suddenly, it felt as though a veil was lifted. My old friend, the epiphany.
I’ve been in a creative slump for a while now, more than a year really. As a writer, this brings an tremendous amount of shame, pressure, and self doubt. I’m very hard on myself professionally and since I left my day job in 2017 to write full time writing has become a chore that I felt I must do to survive and to stay relevant. Once the career was truly aloft I felt like I had to keep flapping my wings feverishly or else I’d fall from the sky. This was paralyzing me. Sure, the recognition and the financial rewards came flooding in, which I’m super grateful for, but somewhere along the way writing stopped being fun.
I had been blaming my creative slump on the trauma of my Dad’s passing in 2020, a two year long project (HardFork) that failed, and the isolation and restrictions during the COVID-19 pandemic but I suddenly realized it was much more than that. As Amstel and I walked in the cooling desert air, I was mesmerized by the dazzling colors reflecting off the mountains in the golden light. I could finally breathe deeply and easily again. It was like meeting the person I was before.
All of a sudden I realized I can stop being so hard on myself and for once in my life just BE. The decades of hard work had begun to pay their dividends but success itself can distort so much. The pursuit of success can become an addiction of sorts, a never-ending journey and that is absolutely not what I want. It’s difficult to put into words how freeing this was.
I’ve felt the trauma melt away a little more each day in the three weeks we’ve been here, this red rock desert is magical that way. This is an extraordinarily grounding and healing place. It’s time to switch things into a lower gear, continue to heal, explore life and all of its many facets.
I have a feeling that by doing so some magical things will manifest. It's great to see the world through the lens of awe and wonder again. We have four more weeks here and I intend to use that time wisely and give myself a gift. To write from the heart, for me. Not for book sales, upvotes, clicks, follows, or praise…for me. I’ve realized it’s been a long while since I’ve truly done this. I want writing to feel sacred again. Hello old friend, it's so good to see you again.
Enjoy the rest of your weekend!
--
-Eric
(Photos are original.)
Poetry should move us, it should change us, it should glitch our brains, shift our moods to another frequency. Poetry should evoke feelings of melancholy, whimsy, it should remind us what it feels like to be in love, or cause us to think about something in a completely different way. I view poetry, and all art really, as a temporary and fragile bridge between our world and a more pure and refined one. This is a world we could bring into creation if enough of us believed in it. This book is ephemera, destined to end up forgotten, lingering on some dusty shelf or tucked away in a dark attic. Yet the words, they will live on in memory. I hope these words become a part of you, bubble up into your memory when you least expect them to and make you feel a little more alive.
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