I once read about the poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning. I remember reading that she wrote amazing poetry, poetry about what was going on in the world and the great issues of the day. Apparently she made quite the influence on the world with her work, which was incredible for a woman in Victorian era England.
I also read that after marrying fellow poet Robert Browning, her poetry “declined”. I remember reading that it was disappointing, how love addled her writing and that after she fell in love she couldn’t write about anything else.
I have two things to say about this memory of mine:
- At the time I went right along with whoever was writing that and judging her harshly, wondering how she could’ve let that happen to her.
- Karma is real. Very real.
And that is all.
Have a nice day.