I remember walking down Market Street one afternoon and an elderly man said to me, “You travel, huh?”
My reply was, “Sorta, about 20 percent of the year what made you ask?”
His reply, “When we walk into a room, we bring our journeys your energy told me where you’ve spent time.”
What do you say after that? I didn’t know how to respond (or if I should), to be honest. I gave an awkward head nod I think, as if I fully grasped the depth of what he was saying, looking up into the sky while pulling my chin hair (thinking these things could summon understanding). The rest of my walk home was spent rolling his words around in my head. Breaking them apart, putting them back together again, before letting them settle into my heart and truly understanding its gravity.
Let’s take a moment and think about the energy we give off. After all, most people usually feel that (our energy), before anything else coming out of our mouths. Is it a hurried vibe? An unsure energy? Maybe it’s a stagnant energy, almost like closet air, trapped in a small space yearning to push toward the window, yearning to be free.
Most of our lives are spent going through the motions. Checking our phones, feeling for keys in coat pockets, searching for the next place we “have” to go to, before the next place, then the next, before we find ourselves at home. Breathing in the old floating air in our rooms, calculating the hours we have left, before we do it all over again.
So I wonder: Had I that energy – one of staleness – would this elderly man have said anything at all?
When bodybuilders work out, there’s a thing called “the plateau” that many end up hitting. It’s when the workout you were doing before – say, bench pressing 10 reps of 150 pounds – just doesn’t get you results anymore. Your muscles are too familiar with the routine; they need something different and new to promote growth.
Well, the same is true about life. If day in and day out, our energy is pushing along the same routine, our bodies and mind develop a memory. If you’re always driving to work but live close enough, walk next week or ride a bike. If you’re too far away, catch a ride with a friend or a bus or Uber even. Leave your phone at home one day.
Do little things to switch up the routine.
The more you change the routine, the further the growth. Until one day, your mind and heart feel completely awake and you are spotted dancing at the corner of Miller Plaza by old friends who wish to claim their own brilliance as you did.
Now come my Words In Grey, an exercise for the month:
The Words In Grey exercises are designed to get you exploring. The idea is to place yourself into a context you may not often find yourself in, then forming some ideas and language around those through poetry, all within a limited amount of time. It doesn’t matter whether you’re a writer or not, it’s more about tapping into that “hidden wholeness”; it’s more about exploring. Through this process, we discover parts of ourselves and ultimately become more acute to the human experience.
1) Find something small to change in your regular routine. Try to add something new each day. It doesn’t have to be big. Start small.
2) Write down whatever those small changes were. Then time yourself – no more than five minutes – and write a poem from the perspective of whatever it was you changed. For example, if you decided to leave your phone at home, write a poem from the perspective of your phone. If you walked instead of drove, write from the perspective of your shoes during the walk or your car still at home perhaps.
It doesn’t matter whether you’re a writer or not; it’s about process here.
Genesis the Greykid was born in Chattanooga, raised in many different cities (military brat), but currently splits his time between New York, the Washington, D.C. area and Tennessee. He’s been writing poetry and music for a living since 2011 and recently released a book of poetry with creative exercises titled “Words In Grey.” Contact him at info@WordsinGrey.com.