"I am a Lone Reed"

I’m doomed to be a lone reed all my days. A solitary reed waving across the vast landscape of social media.

After six months of haiku-ing online here at Substack, I‘ve experienced both highs and lows in terms of number of views. I peaked too soon, but the descent is now rapid. I see metrics for “your average post compared to this post” taunting me each week. I’ve never felt so judged by a graph in all my life.

And to add insult to injury, I lost my first subscriber. They packed their bags and left without even a curt by-your-leave. They put the kibosh on our relationship before I had time to get to know them, or them me. I didn’t even get the typical “it’s not you, it’s me” break-up speech.

But really, I understand. Who wakes up in breathless anticipation on a Wednesday and says, “I can’t wait to read my haiku for the day!”? NObody does.

Why read haiku when there’s political mayhem around every corner of the digital world? When AI babies speak behind senatorial podiums? When cute kittens snuggle with sleeping babies? Or when ads on a continual loop promise a new, ground-breaking treatment for Alzheimer’s involving only two natural ingredients?

Social media metrics try to convince us there are more efficient products than poetry to grab our attention every day, and that there are more effective self care routines than meditating on rhythmic verse.

So I’ll remain a lone reed, writing my Haiku poetry far away from the distant populace.

I began quoting “I am a lone reed” shortly after I saw You’ve Got Mail in 1998. In the movie, Kathleen Kelly, played by Meg Ryan, is fighting to save her small bookshop from the Big Bad Joe Fox (F-O-X, played by Tom Hanks) of the Big Bad Box-store. And Kathleen’s boyfriend, news columnist Frank (played by the cute Greg Kinnear) writes an article in an attempt to save the store:

Frank: Kathleen, you are a lone reed. You are a lone…[types] “reed, standing tall, waving boldly in the corrupt sands of commerce.”

Kathleen, reading his typed words: I am a lone reed.

I have no idea why that line stuck with me, but it has. I’ve used it hundreds of times in the past 20+ years. I use it when I want to buy Butter Pecan ice cream, but everyone else in the family wants Cookies and Cream. I am a lone reed, waving boldly…

I use it when I find myself as the only person on one side of an inconsequential argument - like explaining why my answer is the best in a game of Apples to Apples. I am a lone reed, standing tall…

And I especially use it when I’m trying to make a very important point about my emotional state to the men in my life who can’t seem to wrap their heads around my very plain English words. I am a lone reed.

Haiku had its trending moment in my Substack. I rode the Healing Haiku syllabic train as far as I could. Now it’s just me, myself and I facing the unknown. A lone reed waving in the sands of Substack.

But I find comfort in the words of Isaiah 42:3, “A bruised reed he will not break…”. Thankfully, God cares for the lone reeds of this world.

A Lone Reed

     I am a lone reed
     waving bravely in the face
     of indifference.
     Yet, though the reed may
     bend and shake in robust winds,
     it's the mighty oak,
     which in rigidity,
     falls when the hurricane gales
     of rejection blow.