It was my mother’s birthday the other day, and in addition to a gift, I decided to write her a haiku.
As you know, a haiku is a short poem with three lines. The first line has 7 syllables, the second has 5, and the third has 7.
I’d never attempted a haiku before, but was excited by the challenge. And this is what I came up with. A way of describing the lens through which I see my mother.
She wears a cape no one sees,
Alone, washing plates,
She is the glue our home needs.
Writing this filled me with joy because there’s so much unsaid that fills the spaces between what IS said.
And the syllable limitation actually helped me clarify my thoughts. (Apologies if the haiku doesn’t mean much to you. It’s something only my mum would really understand.)
This power of limitations is an interesting phenomenon that the creativity guru Edward De Bono discusses. The phenomenon that restrictions often breed creativity. It’s like someone asking you to write an essay about anything (“Wait, what do I write about?!!!”). Versus writing about the most fun holiday you’ve ever had (“Ah, okay. Now I have something to sink my teeth into.”)
This got me wondering about other life restrictions that enrich our lived experiences. For instance, creating a spending budget for deliberate living; doing home workouts if the nearby CrossFit gym exercises are too intense; deepening friendships with acquaintances in your city because your BFFs moved out; setting a daily routine to keep your body and mind at peak performance, and so much more.
That’s not to say that we can trick ourselves into loving all restrictions. But it does help us reframe many of the ones we currently hate.