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[ November/December 1999 ]

The Gift of Meaning

by Tim Martin

Have you ever been asked to describe the Northern Lights
to someone who has never seen it?

Awhile back I came to the realization that within all of us is at least one unique song. With just the basic understanding of what it takes, I began writing songs, most with Alaskan and Northern themes. It was fun expressing myself with rhyme, and I began finding ways to make my songs better. The most difficult song I have worked on was originally named Aurora, now called Starlet Rose.

Have you ever been asked to describe the Northern Lights to someone who has never seen it? Have you felt yourself groping for words in the attempt to explain? To this challenge, I added the focus of trying to describe the Northern Lights to a blind person. It’s one thing to describe these magnificent lights to someone who can at least see a picture of what you mean, but to describe them to someone who can’t see caused me to dig deep.

I wanted my words to project a greater feeling and, like the Northern Lights, have a magical quality. Also, Starlet Rose was composed to be inter-rhymed so that the vowel sounds of each line rhymes or near rhymes with all of the vowel sounds of another line.

I committed myself early on by saying I would keep at it till it was done, even if it took me ten years. It took more than 11 years for me to write what is now called Starlet Rose. More than 3,800 pieces of paper went into this writing, and it could be that this poem represents the greatest amount of writing that has ever gone into producing the fewest amount of words!

It is appropriate that this story and poem appear in Alaska Wellness, as my own pursuit of wellness is very much a part of writing Starlet Rose. Ten years ago, I came down with a debilitating case of shingles. I could no longer work at my trade in the Alaska Piledriver’s Union, nor in any 8 to 5 job. The shingles virus was so virulent that at one point I could actually see my skin crawling. When the virus became active, it was like a miniature army moving through me. Doctors could only offer drugs that muted the virus while my body continued to degenerate.

I realized from the beginning that my only hope for survival was to face the virus while at the same time strengthening my body with good food, herbs and water. I used heat, electric frequency, essential oils and herbs both internally and externally. To this, I added a positive attitude – not just an attitude that I would defeat this bug, but also a positive way of living. Writing Starlet Rose has been the most positive thing I’ve ever done.

Creative writing involves sorting through words and ideas to find what’s good. Positive expression in any area is a form of therapy. Writing not only strengthened my ability to communicate, it also caused me to face myself. Throughout this writing, it seemed like the end was just around the corner, that I was almost done. On at least 200 occasions, I announced, "It’s done!" Each time I really believed I had finally finished the poem, but shortly thereafter I would find ways to make it better. I gave it my best and this constant effort to make it better transferred to the physical realm. Along with my efforts to combat the virus, I did get better. I now look healthier and feel younger than I did before I got the shingles.

Writing puts ideas into the physical realm and acts as a record of progress. As long as I keep trying to get better, I’ll continue going through uncharted territory to adventures of the mind.

As a 20-year member of the Alaska Piledriver’s Union, Tim Martin (a.k.a. Sweetwater-T. Hooligan) helped to build bridges and dock and foundation pilings throughout Alaska. His new company is called Gifts of Meaning.