On waiting
I grew up in a house where we were not encouraged to talk about our accomplishments.
(I blame the Brethren. But that’s another post.)
To this day, when I am introduced to someone as a poet I feel a slight sense of shame, not to mention fraudulence.
Six collections, two memoirs and an anthology later, and you’d think I’d feel otherwise.
In practice I only ever feel like a poet during the moment of writing a poem. And only then in the six or seven second silence after completing a draft. Sometimes not even then.
(And even more rarely when I give a reading – that spirit is closer to acting.)
Identity follows action. But if I’m not writing a poem, how can I call myself a poet?
Most of the time I am in a moment of waiting. For the poem I want to write (but cannot) to arrive. For it has to start with some scratchy fragment of language, never an idea. There is no other way.
This is especially true after publishing a book, when I enter a phase of persuading myself that the whole thing was an illusion that happened to someone else, that no poem is on its way and is unlikely to happen again.
This is the normal pattern of things. It requires a lot of trust, of sitting in the darkness, and waiting.
I am in that darkness now.
Happy Advent.
With thanks to Kester Brewin and the Advent 2023 crew.

Thanks Anthony I write some poetry but rarely mention it to anyone. I feel like a fraud and an imposter in lots of areas of my life. I know I’m not really as my wife often reassures me!
Interestingly after becoming a Christian at 17 my first Church was Brethren (open!). Maybe a lot of stuff has lingered about. I’m glad I am a Christian despite it though.
I came to one of your seminars at Greenbelt a few years ago and thought you were very inspiring. Thanks for your work Dave Watts, Nottingham
Sent from Outlook for iOShttps://aka.ms/o0ukef ________________________________
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Hi David, and thank you so much for your kind words. What was that line about not hiding our light under a bushel? It’s imperative for all of us to shine brightly, while we have the time. I’m so pleased my seminar at Greenbelt was useful to you. This is more encouraging than I can say! With best regards, Anthony
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I understand.
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Anthony it’s like in painting- you are waiting for the next fragment of something to do that itchy jolt of an idea/image into the front part of your half asleep consciousness.
Normal.
X Linda
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Hi Linda! So kind of you to stop by. Thank you for your lovely comment. I’m glad it resonates with you across the disciplines, as it were. Sending you much love as ever, Anthony x
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Thanks, Anthony and a very Happy Advent to you. Haven’t you just written a poem?Jeremy (Harvey)
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Dear Anthony
The waiting is difficult. There is doubt and uncertainty. But just as our Advent waiting is joyously fulfilled at Christmas, your creative waiting for words and poems will bear fruit too.
David retired from Manchester Cathedral last year, had prostate cancer and surgery, and we are now learning to embrace a new identity and rhythm of life in New Brighton, on the Wirral peninsula near Liverpool. We were in South Africa last month for the funeral of my mother, who died at 92. Fortunately, I was able to visit her 6 months before that and see her for the last time.
Life really is about constant change… but God is dependable, truthful, and loving to the end. May 2024 be full of joyful new discoveries for you in your life and writing.
Warmest regards Patricia Holgate
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Dear Patricia, thank you so much for your kind and generous rely to my blog post. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to reply to you – I was quite poorly over the winter. I’m so sorry to hear of David’s cancer and treatment, and your mother’s death. I’m glad you are in a new phase of life on the Wirral. I hope it is an adventure for you both and that you keep writing. With warmest regards, and in appreciation of your kind thoughts, Anthony
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Thank you. That says it all and so well I am comforted. May you be so too. Linda Goulden
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Dear Anthony
Many of us are sitting in the darkness with you.
Holding all of us in peace
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Thanks for sharing. It’s helpful to know this happens with other creatives too. I remember being so grateful to realize, “there’s more where that came from.” Trust. I trust trust. So far it never fails.
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Thank you for this Ant
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I recognize that sense of fraudulence, that waiting… does it ever go away? Sigh.
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Hi Rajani. No, I don’t think it does. Not in my case, anyway. With thanks for your support, Anthony
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I very much enjoyed this post…your honesty about ‘the process”. I would love to read a post about how the Brethren impacted you as I spent time with them for many of my younger years and other similar denominations and feel it’s taking me a lifetime to get out of the mindset of unworthiness. I love all your posts and your work!
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Thank you so much for saying so, Sharon. A lifetime of the mindset of unworthiness. Now there’s a topic! I am mulling on it very much atm. It may appear as a blog post, but I can’t promise anything. Watch this space! With thanks for your support, Anthony
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