National Poetry Day

Today is National Poetry Day in the U.K. In celebration, Prince Charles read a poem by Seamus Heaney, the Shipping Forecast. I have commended him for his support of conservation, architecture and, now, Irish poetry.

My poem for the day will by by Marge Piercy. I selected it because of my work. I have eight commentaries for TRowe due over two weeks. I have an analysis of the utility industry due this week for Preventable Surprises--a position paper on how to campaign for emissions reductions at utilities. Because I jumped on the Business in the Community event yesterday, I have an overview due to them (I suggested a Monday deadline). And I have an article due by 10-14 on the shipping industry (how it is addressing emissions). The shipping executive I had proposed interviewing is in Asia and too busy for a chat, so I have to find someone else. I also need to find underlying data for a chart I want to use as illustration (on shipping volumes).

I have not been this loaded up since I was at Queen’s. I am uncharacteristically not stressed about all of these items. Usually I’d be frantic over my ability to deliver on all of these fronts. I’m not sure I can meet all the deadlines, but I seem to have made a choice not to worry. For reasons I’m not clear on, I have kept the stress monster at bay. Is it age? Is it knowing that I control my schedule? At Vanguard I wasted hours in useless meetings. Here I work, or visit neighbours, or do as I please. I know I can turn it on and be very productive when necessary.

I don’t know why I’m so calm but it’s very refreshing. And I’m also enjoying the work. All of my assignments are interesting and engaging. I feel very lucky to be well used. Which brings me back to Marge Piercy’s “To Be of Use”:

The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.

10-6