From Finding a New Rhyme to Finding My Rhythm

There's something rather wonderful about waking up in the morning and being excited about the day ahead.

Not because something extraordinary is happening, but because I'm genuinely enjoying the life I'm living.

And believe me, that hasn't always been the case.

For a long time, my mornings were filled with anxiety, worry and overthinking. I'd wake up wondering what the day might bring, who I might upset, what might go wrong and how I was going to navigate it all.

I spent far too much time worrying about other people's feelings, reactions and expectations, often forgetting about my own.

But things have changed.

And so have I.

When I published my poetry collection, Finding a New Rhyme, it represented so much more than putting a book into the world. It was about finding my voice, reclaiming parts of myself and discovering that my experiences, however difficult, could become something meaningful through words.

I was finding a new rhyme.

But lately, I've realised something else.

I'm finding my rhythm.

These days, I wake up with a head full of creative ideas. Sometimes so many that I don't know which one to start with!

There's usually a brew involved, a notebook somewhere nearby, bits of paper covered in scribbles and doodles, and another idea that probably seemed perfectly reasonable at three in the morning.

My life has become a wonderful mixture of poetry, writing, workshops, books, community projects, performances and conversations with people who inspire me.

And I love it.

I'm taking chances. Putting myself forward for opportunities. Creating things I once wouldn't have dreamed of doing.

Not everything works out. Not every application is successful. Not every idea becomes something.

But that's all right.

I've learnt that rejection doesn't have to mean failure, and other people's opinions don't have to become my reality.

I'm no longer waiting for permission to live the life I want.

I make my own rules these days.

Well, when I can find them!

And I've discovered that there's something incredibly freeing about being able to laugh at yourself.

Only recently, I managed to fall over before I'd even had a drink. Quite an achievement, really!

What could I do?

Get up, laugh and carry on.

And perhaps that's one of the biggest changes of all.

There was a time when something like that might have left me feeling embarrassed, worrying about what people thought.

Now? It's another story to tell.

I'm not suggesting life is perfect. It isn't. There are still difficult days, challenges and moments when things don't quite go to plan.

But I'm no longer measuring my happiness by whether everything goes right.

I'm measuring it by whether I'm living a life that feels right for me.

One filled with creativity, friendship, laughter, purpose and the freedom to be myself.

And perhaps the loveliest part is that I don't feel the need to chase anything or anyone to feel content.

People can come into my life, share the journey, create alongside me and bring their own wonderful chaos.

But I'm already enjoying where I am.

I'm not waiting for life to begin.

I'm living it.

Freely, truly, deeply and, let's face it, a little madly.

So, after writing Finding a New Rhyme, it seemed only right that my next poem should be called Finding My Rhythm.

Because that's exactly what I'm doing.

I've found my voice.

I've found my rhyme.

And now I've found my rhythm.

And I'm having the bloody time of my life!

---

Finding My Rhythm

By Daisy Green

I used to measure my days

by avoidance,

by anxiety,

by who I might upset,

waking up sick, worried, scared,

overthinking,

sinking.

Listening for footsteps,

wondering what the day might bring,

what I might say,

what I might do,

and who might pull the strings.

But now my mind still races,

only in a different direction.

I'm woken by creative ideas,

not fear,

but excitement.

Making a brew,

scribbling, doodling,

organising my next act,

another mission,

another vision.

My next act is the scene I write,

at a time that suits me.

No longer a puppet

in somebody else's show.

Taking chances,

without fear of rejection,

or somebody else's projection.

I no longer wait for permission.

I follow my own rules,

my own guidelines,

when I can find them.

And if I stumble,

I pause for a second or two,

like slipping and falling

for everyone to see.

So I get up,

laugh,

and carry on.

Living freely,

loving truly,

feeling deeply,

and behaving,

well...

a little madly.

I've found my voice,

I've found my rhyme,

I've found my rhythm,

and now I'm having

the bloody time

of my life.