The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Aaah, the power of words.

Remember that blog I wrote yesterday? That blog where I fumed and vented, then came to terms with my present life? Wow, did that improve my mood! I started writing a wretched, lost, on-the-verge-of-tears individual, and by the time I tapped that last period into place, I was on a whole other level. From depression to gratitude in 30 minutes, and all it took was throwing some words down on a piece of paper (or...er...screen).

I am constantly amazed by the power of the written word. With regards to my job, I use my words to educate healthcare professionals. True, the bulk of my projects on Clostridium difficile infection and cytomegalovirus aren't exactly saving lives, but I have my moments of gratitude where I'm appreciative that I possess the ability to write in such a way that others can be enlightened, if only about hospital-associated diarrhea.

Alternately, this blog was designed with the aim of entertainment, mostly for the (3) people who read it. This blog still entertains, but now I write to entertain myself, as well as others. I also write to vent, to laugh, to share, and to humble myself. The subject matter may be primarily fluffy and nonsensical, but it's impact on me has been real and significant. Writing has kept my mind open and my creative juices flowing. It's my way of working through problems, sharing small amusements, and reminding myself of what's really imporant in life. I guess you could say writing is my meditation, my philosophy, and my religion all rolled into one. And I'm a better person for it. Hell, that one blog just allowed me to achieved a mindset I used to only attain through the use of pharmaceuticals (aah, zoloft, how do I love theee? Let me count the ways. ... ... zero. Big, fat zero)

I think the important thing here is that no matter how you express yourself, whether it's through art or music or religion or communication, self-expression is a noble and worthwhile pursuit. Have YOU expressed yourself today?

Okay, that was pretty corney.

But on the subject of words, I came across this poem I had written for my grandfather's funeral last winter. I am by no means a poet, but once again, I am surprised at the depth of emotion that language can express. Judge it kindly, please. I believe this is the first 'poem' I have ever presented in a public outlet. Let's just say that I'm no Emily Dickenson (Thanks Elise and Jen, for just reminding me of her and how brilliant her work is). This poem may be far from perfect, but at least it's sincere.

Do Not See Me As I Am

When you look at me
In the twilight of my life
Do not see me as I am

Do not see
The craggy wrinkles
That line my eyes

See instead
A thousand smiles
That wear themselves
As badges of honor
About my lids

Do not see
My worn out skin
That clings so loosely
Soft and tired

See instead
A thousand dances
That gently tugged
And stretched me thus

Do not see
The spots of age
That dust my hands

See instead
A thousand moments
So precious to me
That they are each one recorded
To be relived forever

And when I am gone
And laid out to rest

Do not see
A lifeless form
Whose touch has grown cold
And stiff with death

See instead
An empty vessel
For I am up
Amongst the stars
Forever watching
Sharing each smile
Each dance
Each moment
Until we are united again