Finding Yourself Between Languages

Original image source: unsplash

Original image source: unsplash

Welcome back for the THIRD post in the Monday Inspirations series, where guest bloggers write about authors and books that inspired them. Today’s post is written by EMILIA MUELLER. You can check out Gulara Vincent’s post, How Agatha Christie Saved My Life, here, and Anne Higa’S Post Here.

Poetry was within me for as long as I can remember. Poorly rhymed, simple verses; I did not think about it too much until in grade 4 my teacher told us to write a description of a Park in the Fall. For homework. Lazy bum that I was, I couldn’t be bothered with all those colors, carpets of beautifully set up compositions of leaves… nope. I wanted to be fast and effective so I just came up with a 12-line poem.ksJ

And I got an A.

I thought – huh? An A for what, maybe 5 minutes of my time? That WAS a bargain.

So I started writing homework-poems whenever I could squeeze them in. I would even start essays with poems or poetic descriptions – I found it always helping with the final result…

Around grade 7, my best friend (also “poetically inclined”) shared with me her discovery – a poet, a priest. His name was Jan Twardowski.

And that was it.

A whole new world of poetry opened before me. I discovered the beauty of simplicity. It surprised me and took to an enchanted world of so-called everyday poetry. I found out that everything can be an inspiration.

And so I wrote about everything, I wrote everywhere. Encouraged by my teacher, supported by my best friend, I kept writing until I finished primary school. In the meantime, I purchased quite a collection of Fr. Jan Twardowski’s poems. It came in tiny little volumes at first. Easily fitting into a pocket. I’d take it everywhere.

And then university happened, when my life turned upside down and I found the words were choking me at times, as I could not/would not write for days… Weeks at times… Tiny snippets here and there and that was it. The only relief came when I found a moment for one or two of JT’s poems. Though not mine, per se, they offered a soothing blanket for my emotions.

Emigration hit my writing the hardest. At first, I got lost. Only the most patient love of my Husband, the safety of his arms, comforting visions of our future, prevented me from falling into a black hole of despair and/or depression.

A few years later, my Mom stuck a tiny little book into a package she sent for some birthday or Christmas or whatever other occasion. I hugged and kissed it. I reread for the millionth time every single poem in there. And I felt the familiar relief… IMG_9552

Switching languages can be a very tricky business… First, you still think in your native and translate to the “new” language… You want to be as good as you can, especially when…well. When it is the language of the love of your life? 🙂 Then you are pretty torn, when you do not feel any of the languages… Your native one went forward and you stayed where you were… The new one… still not there. And all of a sudden you get brave and think – maybe I’m good enough to start reading in English? So you throw yourself into the joy of reading books you loved, but you never dreamt of reading in the original…

And finally you find out that you still have everything inside you, that all the feelings bottled for years, are still there, screaming and kicking to be let out. And that language is no longer an issue…

So I give my Jan Twardoski books a squeeze, I look up to the sky and whisper – thank you Father Jan of the Ladybug, for you made me look around, as well as underneath my feet, and find poetry in everything, everywhere…


Emilia Mueller – a woman of many passions, including but not limited to: reading, writing, running, photography, crocheting, knitting, and heavens only know what else, those things tend to pop up and stay for a longer or shorter period of time.
Cozy mystery addict.
A crazy Bunny Lady, who can talk about bunnies (including their poop) for hours…
A gardener…
Yeah, I guess it shows that I am officially unemployed, doesn’t it?

4 thoughts on “Finding Yourself Between Languages

  1. Pingback: Busy days – or when the life happens… ;) | BookBug's World...

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