I think of you in Pushkin. Again.

[tedwords]

 

Today I was able to successfully import my entire Live Journal to Dreamwidth. It was really much easier than I thought it would be. Literally five minutes! 

I am doing so because I am looking to input my handwritten journals from when I was younger online, so I can have a holistic view of everything I have written down, starting from when I first started journaling in 1979. This is a project I have wanted to do for years, but never really had the time. Having 47 years at a glance would be really cool, I think. But of course, I need a safe place to do so. 

There are a few writing projects I have in mind that will benefit from this effort. More on that to come. 

As I type these entries in, I am at once shocked by what a big gossip I was and how much I recorded about other folk's private lives. Aside from that, I am also kind of satisfied with the through line of my life, which becomes quite evident to anyone reading through the entries.

One poem I posted back in 2002 struck me. It was from Alexander Pushkin and I titled the entry "I Love You in Pushkin." 

I loved you; and perhaps I love you still,
The flame, perhaps, is not extinguished; yet
It burns so quietly within my soul,
No longer should you feel distressed by it.
Silently and hopelessly I loved you,
At times too jealous and at times too shy.
God grant you find another who will love you
As tenderly and truthfully as I.

The inference for me personally was obvious as I read it, given what I was going through at the time and how I was talking through things. But upon reading it again, I continue to think it's a lovely poem and applies to so many relationships we have. How tenderly did Pushkin express this sentiment! 

But can't everyone relate? In John Green's The Anthropocene Reviewed, he talks about how all of the versions of himself that ever existed--from when he was a child, a young adult, in his twenties, etc. all continue to dwell inside him. And I think the best we can hope for is to try and resolve the essential conflicts that made that younger version of ourselves the person we were at the time. And if we can find that inner peace, that inner resolution, how much stronger and at peace we are as an individual. 

Writing helps, I think. Writing helps with this release. Every time I am able to write down what is going through in my head, it's almost like a balloon being released into the sky. The burden is lifted. The essence is captured. 

Wish that I were to express myself in as tender and truthful a manner as Pushkin. But really, all we can do is express ourselves with the crude rudimentary tools that we have in front of us, that we have been given and honed through the years. Our words, our abilities. Our soul. 

Take that and shape what you can from it. 

Comments

[paserbyp]

I remember a wondrous moment:
You appeared before me,
Like a fleeting vision,
Like a genius of pure beauty.
In the languor of hopeless sadness,
In the anxieties of noisy vanity,
Your gentle voice rang out to me for a long time,
And I dreamed of your dear features.
The years passed. The rebellious gust of storms
Dispersed my former dreams,
And I forgot your gentle voice,
Your heavenly features.
In the wilderness, in the darkness of confinement,
My days dragged on quietly,
Without a deity, without inspiration,
Without tears, without life, without love.

[tedwords]

What a sad response! But what a lovely way to express it.

[paserbyp]

I loved you: love, perhaps, has not yet completely died out in my soul;
But let it not trouble you any longer;
I do not wish to sadden you in any way.
I loved you silently, hopelessly,
Now tormented by timidity, now by jealousy;
I loved you so sincerely, so tenderly,
As God grant you to be loved by another.