I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about poetry during this fortnight (as part of a yearlong creative experiment), and the role of mystery - how to make sense of the strange and inexplicable in this world we inhabit.
The chaos of living
Life is seeming a bit messy right now - I’ve been experiencing this myself, and witnessing it with others over the last couple of weeks.
Moments like…
Showing up for my driving test - but arriving 10 minutes late because my instructor wrote the numbers of the time down wrong, and I failed to double check, thereby narrowly missing it…
Arriving at my second hospital appointment of the day (just routine scans luckily!) to be told it is actually taking place in a separate building and I have to rush across town to try to make it in time…
Or being informed that I have inexplicably been unregistered as self-employed after paying tax without issue for nearly two decades…!
All these things have turned out okay. My driving test has been rescheduled, and by pulling some strings my instructor managed to get me a test in a couple of weeks rather than the standard 6 month wait. The doctor couldn’t see me that day, but I didn’t have to come in again because my hospital appointment was switched to a telephone call. And the tax issue was actually not a problem at all, just an administrative glitch.
I wish I could say that even in the heat of the moment I had enough self-awareness to recognise that none of these were huge disasters. But the stress at the time was unbelievable. It takes a lot of time and energy to manage these things - not just the work itself, but the feelings that come with them: frustration, annoyance, boredom, and of course the unnerving sense that you might be going just a little bit crazy.
For me, it is unquestionably the emotional energy that makes these tasks so draining. It calls forth that feeling of why isn’t the world working!? And yet, the more that things go wrong, the more that the inherent absurdity of life is revealed.
There is something strangely liberating about accepting that events will never be completely within our control.
I could feel the change in my response as this cluster of events formed. With the driving lesson, I cried. The tax issue, I muttered a few juicy profanities. But by the time the hospital appointment rolled around, I stood there, dripping from hurrying through the rain, and I couldn’t help but laugh. (Which fortunately broke the tension beautifully with the bewildered receptionist.)
The moments where we get derailed from our grand plans by dealing with the uninspiring admin and mixups of life are not aberrations - they’re part of the authentic experience of being alive.
When we insulate ourselves from inconvenience, we are separating ourselves from life itself.
Poetry as alchemy
This recent series of strange glitches takes me back to a moment in 2020 - when I got to experience firsthand the power of poetry to transform experience.
It was during Covid, when I was still strongly feeling the effects of cancer treatment. My energy was limited to the point that even things like unloading the dishwasher would require lying down and having a rest afterwards.
As I remember it, in this particular chilly week, someone (okay, it was me) had failed to shut the freezer door properly after carefully packing away leftovers. Unfortunately, this was not realised until the next day, when the ice had overgrown so badly that it was no longer possible to close the door at all.
So instead of the day I had planned, I had to throw out all the food, which was no longer safe, and defrost the freezer. The energy I was expecting to be able to focus on creativity I was going to be spent chipping ice and wrangling cracked plastic drawers.
I was frustrated and sad, especially because every moment where I actually had enough energy to be active felt so precious. Was I really supposed to waste it on this thankless task? How could the universe be diverting my focus this way when I have important priorities like making art!
At first, I was designed to the day being a write-off. But as I became focused on the task, I discovered I was finding it strangely satisfying to put this problem to rights.
And then I thought…
Hang on… What if I write a poem ABOUT defrosting my freezer?
The magic of poetry is that it is wily and flexible - it can slip into the cracks of life, letting us jot down a few lines here or there to capture moments that would otherwise be lost to time and memory.
So while I sat on the floor in my little kitchen, I also took out my phone and typed a tiny poem.
It’s not my most sophisticated work, but I really love this poem because to me, it marks a refusal to be defeated by the forces of domestic anarchy. Even just having those few minutes for poetry transformed my day.
And it turned that thankless task from something to trudge though, to an opportunity to look for and find meaning in the details of our experience.
This is why I think poetry has a unique power to bless the mundane in our lives. When we turn little moments in our lives into poems, we open doors to significance and gratitude - or perhaps it’s more true to say, we make visible the magic and meaning that were there all along.
A poem (for you)
Ice
If someone had told me
That adult life means
Getting excited about
Defrosting a freezer
I would have run away
To neverland
Years ago.
Yet here I am,
Watching ice melt
And gleefully collecting
The fallen chunks,
Symbols of my victory
Over chaos
And cold.
Addendum: How this poem has changed for me over time
It was interesting revisit this poem in 2026 and to experience how my relationship with it has changed since it was written.
Anything with the word ‘ICE’ in it takes on a different layer of meaning in light of the news headlines at the moment. The significance feels very different today than it did 5 years ago when I wrote the poem.
We make what we make - but the world around us will inevitably reveal new layers we could never have imagined.
In fact, it seems to me that the idea of the importance of melting ice seems to take on a new meaning, and has never felt more timely…
What can you transform with poetry now?
Even a single word has power. And you don’t have to think of yourself as a ‘poet’ to tap into the power of language.
Poetry is - or should be - for everyone. And nothing is too insignificant to warrant attention. If we need inspiration, all we have to do is look around us; if what’s happening is defrosting the freezer (and removing problematic ice) then so be it!
For now,
Alli
P.S. If you’d like to hear this poem read aloud, pop on over to my Instagram: @alligatrrr.
Image: AI generated to author prompt