Hey all, I wanted to share something I heard yesterday during an extremely stressful day of work, after a week or more of the same. I’d been really disappointed with myself and my lack of creative progress recently, and this affected me immensely. Excerpt:
“That is, that you receive no tidings
Of Love’s folk, whether they are glad,
Nor of ought else that God has bade;
And not only that from far country
No tidings ever come to thee,
But of your very own neighbours
That dwell almost at your doors,
You hear neither that nor this;
For when your labours finish,
And you’ve made your reckoning,
Instead of rest and new things,
You go home to your house anon;
And, as dumb as any stone,
You sit down to another book
Till full dazed is your look,
And live thus like a hermit,
Though abstaining never a bit.”
The author is gently berating himself and his current way of life. He goes to work to make a living, comes home, finds no letters from his loved ones, or from friends he made abroad. He doesn’t go out of his way to talk to his neighbors, nor they to him. And instead of going to sleep early or being creative, he just lays about, drinks, and reads until he is practically asleep. The author is doing the 14th century equivalent of cracking open a beer and spacing out while scrolling or watching Netflix.
The author is also Geoffrey Chaucer, the father of English poetry. The fact that Chaucer might have felt the same kind of malaise and creative frustration as me is so bizarre but uplifting that I had to leave the room while stifling both laughter and tears. It was so cathartic to hear. I know the thought isn’t new by any means, but hearing it from Chaucer really took me by surprise. Anyways, it made me feel a lot better about giving myself a break and I thought I would share in case anyone else gets anything out of it. <3 you all, remember to take care of yourselves