Well I guess the plan was to write poetry and publish books and

In the grand tradition of the ancient poets, where the written word was not only an expression of thought but a calling, the path of the poet was often a heroic and arduous journey. Robert Adamson captures the essence of this journey when he reflects, “Well I guess the plan was to write poetry and publish books and make a living from writing poetry. That was a pretty ambitious plan I guess.” These words, simple yet profound, speak to the dream of every poet: to create words that speak to the soul and to live by the very art that flows from the heart. In Adamson’s self-reflection, there is both a recognition of the difficulty of this pursuit and a reverence for the ancient ideal—the poet as the voice of truth and wisdom, not only an artist but a creator whose words can shape the world.

Consider the bards of ancient Celtic and Greek traditions, who were celebrated not only for their poetry but for their ability to live by their craft. The Greeks revered their poets, and those who composed epics like Homer were esteemed figures in their society. The idea of a poet making a living from their art was not merely a dream; it was a reality for those whose works transcended the mundane, whose words reached deep into the soul of the people. Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey were not just poems—they were cultural touchstones, revered not just in private, but performed in public arenas. The poet was not only a creator but a custodian of memory, a keeper of history, whose work could elevate and sustain the very fabric of society.

However, in the modern age, the life of the poet has often become less about prestige and public celebration and more about the quiet, often solitary labor of writing. Adamson's reflection on his ambition to both write and make a living from poetry speaks to the challenges of our times. The poet today is often relegated to the margins, working in obscurity or financial hardship, even as they produce works that can move the hearts of those who encounter them. It is a bold and ambitious plan, indeed, to believe that one can make a living solely from the written word. For unlike the poets of ancient times, who often had the support of rulers or patrons, today’s poet must grapple not only with the creation of art but with the economic realities of survival.

Yet, to understand Adamson’s ambitious plan, we must also understand the timeless role of the poet as a visionary—someone who, through their words, can connect deeply with the human spirit and reveal to us truths that are often hidden in the everyday grind of life. The great poets of the past, from Shakespeare to Dickinson, did not write only for the sake of earning a living; they wrote because their words could stir the hearts of all who heard them. They understood that the pursuit of poetry was not a selfish endeavor but a service to the world. Adamson, too, recognizes the inherent nobility of this quest—his ambition is not simply to write but to make a living from creating art that can change lives, that can shape minds and hearts.

In the history of literature, there have always been poets who defied the odds to make a living from their words. William Blake, though poor for much of his life, never wavered in his mission to produce art that was both deeply personal and universally impactful. Blake’s visions and poems were not financially lucrative in his lifetime, but today they are considered among the greatest works in the English language. Similarly, Emily Dickinson, who rarely sought publication during her life, crafted poetry that was both deeply introspective and eternally resonant. In these figures, we see that the life of a poet is one of sacrifice and dedication—but also one of great reward, for the poet’s words live on, long after the poet’s body has returned to the earth.

The lesson in Adamson’s words is that the ambition of a poet is noble, though fraught with difficulty. To pursue poetry as a living is to challenge the status quo, to insist that words have a power that cannot be measured by mere financial gain. In this pursuit, the poet must not only seek the external recognition of their work, but must also come to terms with their own inner purpose. The poet’s path is often one of struggle, but it is also one of immense meaning, for their words shape the world in ways that others cannot. Adamson’s ambitious plan is a call to action for all who dare to create: that art, even in its humble form, can provide a life of great worth.

In your own life, if you are a poet, an artist, or a creator of any kind, embrace the ambition of Adamson’s words. Recognize that the pursuit of art is not only a journey of personal fulfillment but also a service to the world. While the road may be challenging, and the rewards may not always be immediately apparent, trust that your work has the power to transform lives. Like the ancient poets, your words can be a part of a greater narrative, one that spans generations. So write, create, and live with the knowledge that your art is important, no matter the external recognition or financial reward. And in doing so, you will find a purpose that is both deeply personal and eternally significant.