poetry

I don’t believe in writer’s block

…and then I had nothing to say. 

I’ve been writing my daily blog at Holistic Budo for a really long time. It has changed over the years and the most recent iteration is what I would call ‘divine poetry.’ As part of my morning prayer hour, I write a poem-like prayer based on whatever inspiration comes to me at that time. 

Most of the time, it feels effortless. The words just come. Some days, I will write several poems and since I only post one a day, that means I have a large amount of unpublished work sitting in a folder. 

For the last few days, however, something feels different. The words simply aren’t there and neither is the desire. It feels like I have nothing left to say on that platform, but I’m not sure why or what to do about it. 

I’ve been so committed to putting out daily posts for so long that it feels wrong to stop, but I have nothing to say. While this may just be a phase, I also acknowledge that everything changes, especially me. I’m not the same person I was when I started the blog. I’m not even the same person I was at this time last year and my writing reflects that. 

Maybe I’m entering a new season in my life. This could be the proverbial door closing so that another door can open. Or maybe I just have writer’s block, although I don’t really believe in writer’s block, and clearly I’m writing because, well, I’m writing. I’m just not writing there. 

Time to pray…

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

Please use your inner voice

My daughter had a dance performance at school to day. It was the result of a week-long special program brought into her school where the kids were taught different dance styles from the 1900’s, spanning from the 1910’s through the 1990’s. I have to say, having been born in the late 1970’s, hearing people refer to that era as “the 1900’s” definitely made me feel old. It’s hard to believe that there are twenty five year olds who were born in the year 2000, but I suppose that is how every aging person feels at one point or another. 

Where was I? Oh yeah. My daughter had a dance performance at school today which my wife and I were planning to attend. My sister-in-law was also going, and my wife and her were going to ride together because they had plans to go out after. 

The performance wasn’t until early afternoon, so I went to jiu-jitsu class in the morning. When I was leaving class, I got a text from my wife that said her sister was at our house and she was taking a nap in my daughter’s room. She then sent me a text that said, “When you come home, please use your inner voice.” 

English is my wife’s second language and, while she speaks, reads, and writes it as well as most Americans, sometimes she mixes up slang or common American sayings. In this case, she clearly intended to say, “When you come home, please use your inside voice,” and I knew what she meant. Still, her actual words caught my attention. 

While it is sometimes necessary for me to be told to “use my inside voice” because I can get rather excited and, with that excitement, my volume tends to increase without me realizing it, I can honestly say that I’ve never been told to “use my inner voice before,” at least not in those words. That said, if I’m being honest, it felt less like a typo or misunderstanding, and more like a sign. It’s something I needed to read and it’s been on my mind all day. 

We could all do well to use our inner voice more often. I know I could. There are so many instances every day where that quiet whisper of God is drowned out by the world or by my own selfishness, pride, fears, and desires. Temptations are loud, obtrusive, and easy to give in to. 

We don’t have to practice listening to temptation. It will gladly impose itself on us without any effort on our part. Listening to our inner voice, on the other hand, requires a great deal of discipline, effort, and time. This is why practicing silence is so important, why meditation or contemplative prayer are essential components of the spiritual journey. Without making time for silence, without making time for listening to God, we may find that our inner voice is too quiet to hear when we need it most. 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

The resistance is like a church bell ringing in my soul

I’m supposed to be writing my graduate school admission essay, but it’s hard. It’s hard because it matters. It’s hard because it’s personal. It’s hard because it’s about me and that brings up all of my fears, insecurities, and self doubt. 

Doing something like this brings me face to face with the stories I tell myself about my worth and my worthiness, about what it means to be accepted, and about what it means to be loved and received as I am, not as I pretend to be. 

Writing about myself, why I want this, and why I am the right candidate and this is the right school for me terrifies me because it exposes me. It exposes me because I refuse to give them only part of me. I don’t know how, and that’s not what they are asking for. It terrifies me because, if I give them all of me, what if that is not good enough? 

This fear, this paralyzing, mind-numbing, soul-shaking fear is how I know it’s important. It’s how I know it’s real. It’s how I know that I have to do it. The fear tells me where to go, even if I don’t want to go there, even if I hate the feeling of moving forward. 

The resistance is like a church bell ringing in my soul. It won’t leave me alone. It calls to me. It draws me nearer. It’s an inevitability. With every passing day and every toll of the bell, I can feel the pull toward the work that I must do. Even as I write this, seemingly in avoidance of the call, it has brought me one step closer to finishing the hard work of facing myself. 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

A state of non-pain

Is there a word for not being in pain? The state of being healthy and pain-free is often overlooked and under-appreciated. We don’t notice it because it doesn’t hurt. It’s almost as if we need pain in order to pay attention to our bodies. 

When we are hurt, we pay attention. Pain can be unrelenting in this way. It refuses to go unnoticed. We obsess over it. In fact, when we are injured, if we don’t feel our pain, we check back in on it to see if it’s still there. It’s not that we want to feel it. On the contrary, we check in on it because we are hoping it is gone, but checking in on it only perpetuates the pain.  

Peace and comfort, on the other hand, go largely unnoticed. We take them for granted, at least until they are disrupted by pain. Then, we miss our peace. We crave comfort. We yearn for healing. But as soon as our pain is relieved, so are we. We relax and forget it ever existed. We move on with our lives like it never happened. 

We love to forget our pain. While we are in the midst of our suffering, we make all sorts of bargains and promises. We swear that we will change if we only find relief. Our lives will be different if we are given a second chance. Pain makes us liars, but it is not our fault. We don’t mean to forget. It’s just that pain distracts us from the truth of our complacency and our apathy. 

I’m not sure if there is a word for not being in pain, but I am sure that we should appreciate it more. We should be grateful for every moment we are not hurting, celebrate our lack of pain, and rejoice in the freedom it affords us. It’s a luxury that is promised to no one, and it will not last. 

Journey of Imperfection

One of the most difficult things about writing is knowing where to start. A blog is no different. 

As creatives, we tend to have high standards for ourselves and for the work that we share with the world. We want our art to be perfect before we put it out there for others to interact with. 

The truth is, however, perfect does not exist. Perfect is a lie we tell ourselves in order to hide. It is a shield we use to cover up our vulnerabilities in an attempt to keep them hidden away from the world. 

But the best art is fueled by vulnerability. It is formed from the broken pieces. It is shaped by the hurt, the pain, and the confusion of being a sensitive human in an often insensitive world. 

This is not to say that art is sad. On the contrary, art is hopeful, uplifting, and inspiring. Art is transformative. It connects us soul-to-soul and tells us that we are not alone. 

And in that spirit, I write my first blog post.* My goal with this blog is to embrace both my imperfection and the imperfection of the world around me, and to simply write. 

Unlike my other projects which have specific external focuses (foci?), each representing a different part of who I am, this blog and this site is just about me. I will use it to tell stories, share my ideas and opinions, and to wax philosophical as whim dictates. 

My main goal here is to follow my muse wherever she leads and to share what I find with anyone who is willing to join me on this journey of imperfection. I am not asking permission, I have no one to answer to besides my own conscience, and there are no rules other than that I remain true to that which calls to me. 

And so I will write… 

Regards,

Robert Van Valkenburgh

*I have been posting to my other blog, Holistic Budo, for several years, but this site serves a different purpose for me than Holistic Budo has. While Holistic Budo is largely advice written to myself, my writing here will be largely about myself, my experiences, and my observations.