My thoughts after reading William Stafford's "You Must Revise Your Life"

I realized this week that I am a writer. William Stafford has helped me to come to this conclusion. I may not have had many publications, but I have been able to express myself through words on the page in ways that have moved myself and the few people with whom I have shared my poetry. Writing is my outlet for the abundance of emotion floating around in my psyche; it is my medium for communicating with loved ones when I feel that my verbal articulation is sub-sub par. It is how I am able to find the true value of my experiences when they seem lost to me. Because I love to write, and write because I have to, I am a writer.

William Stafford’s book You Must Revise Your Life is a beautifully crafted guide to the writer that I have been searching for my whole adult life. Its pages are filled with the most spiritually fulfilling chapters that explain what life should be like for a writer—without actually telling the reader what to do. His tone is fatherly, his presence wise, and with the turn of every page I felt the desire to cultivate my own writing as a tribute to his brilliant words.

As the title of the book suggests, Stafford does make the claim that writers need to change their lives in order to produce effective writing. Some may already have the right attitude, and perhaps they are the ones already publishing their works. But for many, I believe they fall into the same traps I did, they had their eyes on the wrong prize. In the chapter titled “ A Witness for Poetry” Stafford writes “Instead of trying to achieve satisfaction by fitting society’s hurdles I think that the artist is the one who has chosen another kind of satisfaction that is so much interiorized that it never fails.” (65) The prize that many people seek is publication and formal laudation. The true prize should be the satisfaction of expressing yourself through your poem as you are writing.

The desire to be published is so strong for the general mass that students try to write what they think will get them an “A” and teachers encourage students based on what they think will be publishable. Stafford’s teaching theory is far removed from this philosophy. As a teacher, he preferred to be regarded as a peer. He didn’t write comments on his students’ papers other than marking weaknesses and strengths that the students could later revise themselves. Through this method he would help guide his students towards developing their own voices.
Stafford believed that writing was organic. He believed that if you listened, the words would come together that were necessary to complete a thought. He describes writing as “ seek[ing] its own form…how a phrase when you speak it or write it begins to call up another phrase, or how a word suddenly finds another word that its syllables like to associate with. (21) Because of the magical nature of writing, the meaning of a poem need not be formulated before beginning the first line. Colors may emerge in your poem with now significant reason to you, until you look back and realize that it is the color of the flower sitting outside of your window.

As a teacher, Stafford wrote his book as a guide to fellow poets. His notion that the prize is the actual act of writing and the publications and awards are merely by-products is profound and inspiring. His philosophy that the meaning will find its way through your pen gives hope to the many opening lines that appear to have to direction and are never given a chance. You Must Revise Your Life is a book that should be read by anyone struggling with the decision to write and by anyone faced with a classroom full of hungry eyes awaiting instruction. I knew when I was 12 that I was a writer. I have written many poems, a few short stories, and numerous essays. Since reading this book, I have made the leap and revised my own life. I am now finally able to face the world as a writer and a lover of language.



Here is a poem that I wrote while reading this book:

Upon Reading William Stafford’s “Yellow Cars”

I listen gently to the rain—I
always have a pen on hand
but not always paper.
The thoughts flow quicker than
I can understand them, emotions;
raw and un-expressed.
I read of a yellow car, I see it drive by,
I turn my head and find that I am happy.
The rain hits softly on my third story window—
I wonder how the ground feels
underneath your feet as you walk to our door.

Rocking my World

I was on my favorite knitting website, ravelry.com, when I entered into a forum that a friend of mine told me about. The group is for people with wrist problems who love to knit. I was so excited that I might be able to find a simple answer there for my wrist problems by the resident specialist and veteran knitters. Boy was I wrong. I am now convinced (I doubted until now) that I do not have carpel tunnel. What I may have, however, is a gluten intolerance. That was not at all what I wanted to hear. I have taken the advice given to me, and I have been on a gluten free diet now for almost two weeks. The days go by slowly; the memory of warm, baked, gooey pizza is slowly fading from my mind and I wonder if I am just beginning to be paranoid about my eating habits have been all wrong, or if I am really a having a breakthrough regarding better health.

I have been doing massive amounts of research on nutrition related health issues, most of it grueling and contradictory. But what I begun to learn is learning about health concerns is no different from writing a research paper or essay. There are many sources on the internet; all with their own personally, politically, and financially charged motives for writing their articles. I have found that personal blogs, with no medical background to back up their findings, are just as important and relevant as WebMD or any other source of medical information. Combining our unique bodies with our physicians personal philosophies (yes, physicians all have their own belief systems that sway the opinions of their practice) it is sometimes hard to know is something is being over looked. I love my PCP, but I cannot count on her eyes alone to detect everything that may be wrong with me. Between the two of us, we never made the leap that perhaps my leg cramps, wrist pain, asthma, etc. were all related let alone that they could be caused by a gluten intolerance.

Perhaps I’m jumping the gun. I may not have a gluten intolerance after all. I may simply be putting myself through a torturous routine for nothing. Some days I wish that at the end of all this (6 weeks or so) the result is positive. If it is, I may have to continue with a limited diet, but then my over-all health will improve. Other days…well lets just say that I really love food, and I really love to cook. This has been an interesting challenge so far, and this is the first time that I have been able to stick to a diet for more than two days. I have to say, I am rather proud of myself for being able to watch as everyone else eats fried calamari, gravy smothered chicken, grilled cheese and pasta salad . I’ll keep you posted on how it goes. Until then, I am working on an essay about William Stafford and his book You Must Revise Your Life. It is less demanding and exacting than the tone of the title suggests. I look forward to seeing how my thoughts work their way onto the page.