NOT About My Past

I'm just going to blather about nothing for a bit.

I sat at supper alone the other night and wrote out a blog post I thought I'd share yesterday, but then it sounded absurdly personal and maybe a bit whiny, so I never typed it in. Am I the only one who, as an adult, finds out things from the past and gets to feeling resentful? It's not a good feeling, and I'm not proud of it, especially since everyone is just making their choices of what to say and what to do in the moment as we progress through this journey called life, and how can I objectively remember how I behaved back then, and whether or not my actions and attitude caused another person to withhold information that now I wish I'd known?

I'm doing a lot of internal work on ... oh I don't know, call it "mindfulness" - that's part of it - but also on trying to accept people/things/situations without negativity. That needs to include the past. It's not instinctive for me.

[I'm not talking about supressed trauma. That's different. Just tiny things that if you'd known then, maybe you would be different now? Maybe would have helped?]

But the thoughts I wrote down the other night are a step backward, so here I am sharing inanities!

How I write.

I sent my novel to a few Beta-readers last weekend, so I've been taking a week off from writing or editing. Maybe I'm drifting a bit.

I started looking up this ancient Chinese poet: Du Fu (Also translated as Tu Fu. I know, you were confused by the "D".) I took a picture of the full moon the other night, so the first poem I looked up was called "Moonlit Night". Not at all related to my picture, but here they both are:

It was a full moon, and I was walking home from supper through the rice paddies. Heaven.

The text of "Moonlit Night" as translated by the first website I clicked on:

The moon shines in Fuzhou tonight,
In her chamber, she watches alone.
I pity my distant boy and girl-
They don't know why she thinks of Chang'an.
Her cloud-like hair is sweet with mist,
Her jade arms cold in the clear moonlight.
When shall we lean in the empty window,
Together in brightness, and tears dried up?

I'm no poet, and yes, it's a translation, but even so I feel that I need to take a course in Chinese poetry if I'm ever to understand what the heck it means! 😂

Any insight from any poetry lovers? Maybe I just need to read more of this Ancient Chinese Dude, to get into his head. The last ancient poetry I read was Beowulf. I loved that one, but epic poems are easier I think, because they tell a story.

See? I told you I'd blather about nothing. What nothing is new with you?