The More I Get to Know Me, the Less I Think of Me

By Poor William and Pontificus Minimus, together, in harmony

It’s been a reflective couple of weeks for the lads; much has transpired, much has been learned. When exactly did they think they got so smart anyway? They ain’t! What follows is written in the first-person singular. The lads were strangely of one accord, and they felt like they could get along this week and write with one voice.

Poor William and Pontificus Minimus. Photo by The Delta Bohemian

Poor William and Pontificus Minimus. Photo by The Delta Bohemian

They wrote it on an iPhone in the kitchen as Chilly Billy’s Homemade-and-never-been-made-and-may-never-be-made-again Green & White Lima Bean soup was conceived, nurtured and left to simmer. Y’all just don’t know! That means it is likely to be quite tasty! Or not!

Recently, I started back reading the Bible from the beginning—Genesis! As a print lover, I have been slow to segue to electronic, handheld devices, actually thinking I never would. However, I have. Every morning while walking on the treadmill—not ready for that run thing yet—I have been reading the narrative account of God’s earliest dealings with mankind, His most-prized creation, made in His image.

The story of the biblical patriarchs, Adam, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and Joseph, has caused me to reflect on my lack of relationship with God, as well as fostering a healthy introspection regarding my personal and professional life. There is much to improve.

I spend a lot of time with myself, inside my head, and it ain’t always a lot of fun. I have issues, plenty of them. Careening from one extreme to another, I find myself either thinking of myself as a worm, not a good thing unless you are comfortable on the end of a hook, or thinking too highly of myself, i.e. “I ain’t all bad,”—a Southern euphemism meaning “I am the cat’s meow!”

When the dust or cobwebs finally settle, I figure I am a hell of a lot closer to a worm than I am to what passes for language with a feline creature, but I have realized that being a little bohemian in nature will not necessarily send me straight to hell. See what I mean; I got issues related to over-thinking, not necessarily correct thinking.

Anyway, all of this internal dysfunction has resulted in my trying to recognize areas in which there is significant room for personal and professional improvement. Improving what and how I write—style, voice, brevity, timeliness, etc.—is on a front burner. I have had blessed access to an editor with Legends Magazine. She has helped me realize that I ain’t “all that!” But, she has helped me know how to get there, and it takes work, lot’s of it.

Previously, I thought writing was easier for me than most folks because I am a communicator. I now realize it is harder for me than most folks. I have to parse more words, split more infinitives, research more efficiently, and think more clearly in order to become a marginal-at-best writer with a unique voice and a perspective that will hopefully make a guy or gal chuckle, smirk, shake their head while smirking and maybe think about God and His awesome creation. I hope to stay the course! God bless! pw&pm

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Comments

  1. Jon Levingston says

    Your rumblings remind me of the time my inner Jack Benny began waring with my inner Rochester van Jones. That was quite a batallie royale, my friend. The fact is, I didn’t know my inner Benny and van Jones had such latent anger one for the other. I relate this bit of trivia nausea to you to say that eventually and happily, Mr. Benny and Mr. van Jones enjoyed a rapprochement. Consequently, I believe you may find Messrs. P.W. and P.M. may do likewise, perhaps to the point that they admire each other the way many of us admire and care for the combination of the two.

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