Pointfulness

It pops up almost every day.
“Is there a point to doing this?”

To writing poems, reading books,
Highlighting excerpts, keeping notes,
Recording thoughts in diaries,
And digitising all of it –
These snapsnots of an inward life.

“Is there a point to doing this?”

Another Zettlekasten tool,
Another thick biography,
Another common commonplace,
Reminds me of the benefits,
And yet it pops up yet again,
“Is there a point to doing this?”

To which a gravel voice replies,
“Just label this and set aside.”

If that’s the only point it serves,
A practice prompt for mindfulness,
A drawing-water-chopping-wood,
It isn’t quite as pointless, no?

“But what’s the point of mindfulness?”
An antidote to pointfulness?