As a writer, I am always searching my mind for what I think, know, and believe. Moreover, trying to find patterns between them to explain myself, the world, and the relationship between the two. Then, to write it all out coherently enough to maintain my bearings—my sanity. Finally, to share it if I think it might benefit others.

Painters paint with the stroke of colors, chefs paint with food and spices, and writers paint with words. Writers don’t make a mess in a studio or a kitchen, they make a mess in their mind then try to sort it out to make it informative or even inspiring for a reader. I wish that my favorite Lyle Lovett lyric, “I live in my own mind, ain’t nothin’ but a good time” was always true. Alas, life does present difficult challenges that, if properly considered, allow us to grow into ourselves.

Each of the painter, the chef, and the writer are trying to create a connection with others out of the messes they make. If it only pleases themselves, that is okay too. In my case, I write for myself first and always, but share it to affect connection with others. It is always interesting and informative for me to see what resonates with whom. It is sometimes even humorous to experience criticism from both sides of an issue, which I guess makes me the occasional equal opportunity offender. In any event, helping people think—to understand—is its own reward.

In my process, I have become very fond of both analytical narrative and poetry. I was well trained in analytical narrative, especially in the pursuit of my PhD, which was at its essence a deep dive into learning to write well. An undergraduate degree teaches us to think well; graduate school teaches us how to properly express what we are thinking for the benefit of others regardless of the medium like paint, food, or words.

However, analytical narrative—writing persuasively with high regard for facts and reason—is not as engaging for the reader as is poetry. By its nature, analytical narrative is not designed for interpretation; rather, it is designed to be both clear and persuasive with limited opportunity for the reader to weigh in. On the other hand, poetry is abstract and invites rather than prohibits interpretation, which is its superpower inasmuch as interpretation invites engagement which creates a relationship between writer and reader that can produce a more meaningful experience for both. The reader has the opportunity to make a poem their own. In effect, the poet is saying, “I release this to you to do with it as you wish.”

I have found that toggling between the two—analytical narrative and poetry—while sticking to the same subject/content is challenging and often produces new illuminations as the renderings, while different in form, become intriguing complements to one another. To take verse and turn it into analytical narrative or vice versa, take analytical narrative and turn it into verse. It’s like jazz: synchronicity thriving in asymmetry. Today’s poem, “Reverence for Me” is my last analytical narrative post, “Three Steps to Resilience” expressed in verse. If you missed the last post, you can find it here: https://ameritecture.com/three-steps-to-resilience/. “Reverence for Me” is like a pocket version of the essay on resilience. 221 words instead of 2,483 words.

Now, go ahead: interpret, engage, and most importantly, make it your own.

Reverence for Me

It’s a daunting world

With lurking unknowns

Every day unpredictable

The noise is deafening

As well as I know me

There are always distractions

The world wants me

To indulge its seductions

Enslaved by desires

And high expectations

Leaving me to suffer

The cost: dissatisfaction

Me, I have for certain

If I am certain of me

The best of, the worst of

The honest me

The fashionable changes

But doesn’t change me

Soulless influencers

Don’t have a hold on me

The high priests offer shame

Trying to heal & heel me

But my heart is full

And my soul is mine

Still others have opinions

To suit their needs

To capture me in their web

To suck what they can

But my home is here

Wherever I may be

Choosing virtue over vice

With authenticity

The world keeps turning

And the treadmill churns

Learning to honor me

My essence, core, and soul

That beautiful me

One in billions of yous

Me just for me

Worthy just as I am

Body, mind, and soul

Fortitude becomes me

Upright, clear, and calm

Leaning into the moment

I stand before peril

With a wink and a grin

I’ll leave when I wish

My home travels with me

Wherever I go

There I am again

Finding grace in suffering

I rest in divinity

Living in the moment is not an argument for instant gratification. TikTok is not life. Using your moments to be reflective and contemplative is meant to build your future one moment at a time. We live in a world of seduction and provocation. Succumbing to these petty ploys must be treated as noise—as empty distractions—if we want our lives to be meaningful and fulfilling. Living as a pinball by bouncing around without agency is a waste of the gift you were given the moment you took your first breath when you inhaled your soul. Tending to yourself is not selfish, it is redemptive, and makes you a much more valuable member of society.  Your physical, mental, and spiritual self needs care and compassion. It is the one job we must not ignore. There is always time for you. Use it wisely. You are worth it.