Turning Attempts Into the Poetry of Living
Created at: September 11, 2025
Savor each attempt; a poem of effort becomes a life. — Pablo Neruda
Savoring the Small, Writing the Whole
At the outset, the line urges us to taste each try as if it were a stanza; effort, not only achievement, composes the narrative we call a life. When we linger over attempts—successful or not—we convert bare persistence into meaning. Like enjambed lines that carry sense across breaks, our imperfect starts carry us forward, giving continuity to days that would otherwise feel fragmented. In this light, failure is not a deletion but a revision mark, a visible trace of learning. Each deliberate try becomes a syllable of identity, and attention—savoring—turns motion into memory. Thus the poem of effort is not a metaphor alone; it is a method for noticing how process ripens into character.
Neruda’s Faith in the Ordinary
From this vantage, Neruda’s work offers a precedent: he turns common work into lyric. In Odes to Common Things (1954), he hymns the onion, the spoon, the bread—objects marked by hands and habit. Such praise elevates daily effort, suggesting that the humble repetition of doing becomes worthy of song. Moreover, in Canto General (1950) he names miners, harvesters, and rivers with equal gravity, tying personal striving to the continent’s vast labor. His memoir, Confieso que he vivido (1974), likewise lingers on small encounters and incremental apprenticeships. These texts imply that savoring attempts is both aesthetic stance and civic ethic.
Craft, Revision, and the Accumulation of Tries
Consequently, craft becomes the study of attempts. Writers have long testified that life’s poems are drafted repeatedly: Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird (1994) defends “shitty first drafts,” honoring them as necessary scaffolding. Ernest Hemingway told The Paris Review (1958) he rewrote the ending of A Farewell to Arms thirty-nine times—each revision a renewed vow. Beyond letters, Beethoven’s sketchbooks reveal themes refined through patient alteration; the masterpiece arrives by accretion. Through this lens, effort is not a detour from excellence but its primary road, and savoring each pass prevents discouragement from erasing progress.
The Psychology of Savoring Effort
Likewise, research suggests that how we hold our attempts shapes outcomes. Carol Dweck’s Mindset (2006) shows that a growth orientation turns setbacks into information, preserving motivation. Anders Ericsson’s work on deliberate practice (Psychological Review, 1993; Peak, 2016) demonstrates that targeted, feedback-rich attempts build expertise faster than mindless repetition. Crucially, savoring is not indulgence but fuel. Fred Bryant and Joseph Veroff’s Savoring (2007) documents how lingering on small wins strengthens well-being under stress. Teresa Amabile’s The Progress Principle (2011) further finds that noticing daily progress sustains engagement. Thus, to savor each attempt is to engineer resilience.
The Communal Poem of Work
Meanwhile, Neruda reminds us that effort is rarely solitary. In Canto General (1950), the ore, the hands, and the nation intertwine; a single swing of the pick reverberates through families and histories. When we honor attempts, we recognize the invisible scaffolding—teachers, colleagues, neighbors—that makes our striving possible. This perspective reframes dignity: labor is not merely transactional but narrative, stitched from shared risks and repairs. By tasting the effort of others as carefully as our own, we co-author a broader poem—one that measures success by the bonds it strengthens.
Practices for Making Tries Count
Ultimately, savoring is a practice. Small rituals—an end-of-day line noting one thing improved—cement attempts into memory. Marcus Aurelius’s Meditations (c. 180 AD) models such reflective accounting, converting daily trials into principles. The Japanese idea of kaizen extends this: modest, continuous tweaks compound into transformation. In practical terms, gather drafts, log experiments, and celebrate thresholds rather than trophies. By curating evidence of trying, you render progress visible and invite the next step. In time, these marked efforts rhyme across months and years—until, as Neruda suggests, the poem of effort coheres into a life.