DAVID DeWATERS...
STEPPING FORWARD 2DAY with some MARVELOUSLY CREATIVE POETRY.
Get to know the Bowie, Maryland AUTHOR via his Blog: http://daviddewaters.com
The stronger the experience, the harder it is to explain
I remember lying in bed, dreaming,—David DeWaters, Imagination
Half-awake at night when I was younger.
Thoughts of life and outer space were teeming
Out my head with amazement and wonder.
The stars and galaxies were my plaything,
Drifting above me up there in the sky.
I used to think it all so amazing,
But those thoughts have dwindled as time’s gone by.
I used to stretch my imagination
Further than it could go with imagery.
Now I’m reduced to write sad narration,
Of times gone by reduced to memory.
Nonetheless, I look back at it fondly,
And sometimes it even helps to calm me.
This poem is my attempt at capturing a real, vivid experience that I had when I was younger. I also talk about this experience in the poem that I’m currently working on, but I don’t want to paste it all here because it’s too long of a passage.
Anyway, it might not be obvious what I mean when I say “I used to stretch my imagination / Further than it could go with imagery,” but this is actually a key to understanding the experience. At the heart of the experience is an indescribable feeling, only reached by exceeding the limits of my imagination. The sheer vastness of outer-space is incomprehensible, and through the act of trying to comprehend it, I was able to experience this feeling.
I’ve always been able to experience at least a minor form of lucid dreaming and the ability to control the path that my dreams take, and this probably added to the feeling that I felt. It was a short-lived feeling, and often I would try to repeat the same steps that I took to achieve the feeling immediately after it went away. I know sometimes I would start by imagining something small, something here on Earth, then slowly “zooming out” until I reached the depths of space. Or perhaps I would imagine slowly going back in time until I reached the beginning of time. Eventually, I would reach a point where I couldn’t go back any farther, and that is when I would feel this feeling. It took a great deal of concentration to achieve it, and I wasn’t always successful at it. Over time, I became less and less capable of experiencing it to the point where now I am completely incapable.
So, there is no moral to this post or anything. I just thought I would go into a little more detail in regards to what this poem is about. It’s impossible to do justice to the experience by trying to put it into words, and, truthfully, I haven’t put very much effort into explaining it because I know it would ultimately be futile, but hopefully the poem will have a little more meaning to it after reading this explanation.
More from David's Blog: www.daviddewaters.com
Time to talk about depression a little bit
I do hate to write about depression,—David DeWaters, But How Do I Feel This Very Moment?
At least as often as I seem to do.
I would hate to give off the impression
That I’m selfish and of myself consumed.
I haven’t really talked too much about depression on this blog, which may seem strange given the subject matter of my book, but I think these lines from my poem, But How Do I Feel This Very Moment?, help to explain this phenomenon.
Basically, I don’t want to talk about depression. I experience it everyday, and it isn’t enjoyable. However, I need to keep in mind why I published my poems in the first place. Sure, I wanted to showcase my ability as a writer and poet, but I also realized that I was in an unusual position whereby I suffered from depression yet was able to talk about it and express how it feels. I felt obligated to publish my poems and I feel privileged to be able to lend my voice to others who may be going through the same thing yet have no way to express themselves. So, I think I would be doing a disservice if I continued on with this blog without discussing depression every once in a while.
I mentioned in a comment on here that I have trouble accepting compliments from people, and this stems from my depression. Basically, I’m so used to hating myself that it just feels weird and uncomfortable being lauded for something. I don’t feel worthy of anybody’s praise. Obviously, I know how to respond to a compliment. It doesn’t take much more than a thank you. The problem is that it feels dishonest. If I were being honest, I’d say something like, “Uh, no. You’re wrong. I’m actually a garbage individual.” Personally, I think this stops many people from talking about their depression. They don’t want other people’s sympathy because they don’t feel worthy of it, which, ironically, is actually quite a commendable attitude to have.
Feel free to leave your comments here or at David's Blog at (www.daviddewaters.com)
Help break the stigma: talk about mental health issues, concerns, coping strategies, recognizing symptoms, and increased need for more programs and treatment sources in our communities.
May is Mental Health Awareness Month.
Help break the stigma: talk about mental health issues, concerns, coping strategies, recognizing symptoms, and increased need for more programs and treatment sources in our communities.
