How to Not Let the World Drive You Crazy (if you're me)

For my 100th blog, I thought it appropriate that I actually show up and write a blog, (rather than just post some poetry).  The obvious topic: Why haven't I been blogging?  Ok, gather 'round girls and boys and we'll work this one out.

I think the main thing that has kept me away has been the things I've been thinking of.  They don't have any simple solutions or plausible explanations.  I can't find that Pollyanna spin for any of it.  I suppose it boils down to shock and awe at the state of the world.  The problem with that... ok, I can't even begin to breathe on a whisper of a hint of the problems with that.  But the problem with me thinking of it is that it is without solution.  That is, as long as we look at the big picture.  And I've written about this before so I know this already.  When you stand too close and look at the details, when you try to work it all out and make some sense of it, when you try to see what's really going on behind what we're told, you feel very, very small.  And that's no way to ignite a revolutionary state of mind, or to promote any sort of hope at all.  What a person has to keep in mind is that the world is absolutely, incurably, undeniably, sickeningly, and dangerously insane.  And it's not our fault.  Well, that is, it's not our fault- individually.  But the point is that we're not meant to try and affect that mess.  We're not supposed to be out to slay that wind-mill.  We're each here about our own individual business and that can get lost in a heartbeat as loud as this world can be. 

Ah, there's the thing that does me in- the roar of the world.  It comes in so many voices.  It's the T.V. I stopped watching, the horrors that are happening even though I'm not looking, political opining, so many -ism's, so much abuse and cruelty. It's just a big, loud world out there and it can rub a person raw just to know about it.  My reaction to that is to retreat till the scabs heal.  I'm really glad to say that I've learned a lot in this quiet time.  Rather than dwelling deep within anything, I've simply been staying really close to myself.  I've watched my responses and thought about how certain things affect me and why my responses might be so different from those of the people around me.  People are fascinating people.  We can have so much in common and yet such different ways of being.  One of the most important things I've started to, (finally), realize is that sometimes people just don't understand.  I think I forget about how unique we all are and expect that other people can understand why I might deal with something in a certain way, or even an opinion I might have.  Something in that "wanting to please" part trys to tell me that if someone else can't comprehend what I'm going through, I must be doing something wrong.  I forget that it's me who's going through the thing.  Of course someone else would do something differently, they're not me!  I can see where you might be getting bored right about now, what is this, Sesame Street Self Help?  But bear with me, this is ground breaking stuff for this girl. 

So I've rather sloppily established two things so far.  1. Don't worry about the world.  Have compassion but don't let that drain passion.  2.  Don't worry when they don't get it.  They never will and it won't ever matter.
Well, that feels better.  Now I have to add something I, (mercifully), learned a long time ago.  3.  Laugh at yourself!

 I can not stress the importance of number three.  I would make it number one but if you skip one and two you won't be laughing at anything anyway.   I think I may have a mild form of what Big Pharm likes to call social anxiety.  What that really means is I'm shy.  And I, (as I believe we've covered), think too much of the opinions of others and, for some reason, really want to be understood.  Again, I can not stress the importance of number three.  I have had some awkward moments and uncomfortable situations that might have literally killed me of embarrassment in my teens.  (Yes, I understand the word.  I actually believe I might have died of heart failure or brain aneurysm in any of several situations in my life had I not learned the ability to laugh at myself.)  I would really like to announce my retirement from the habit of occasional dorkiness and doing things others find strange but it would be short lived.  Besides, trying or not, I'm one of the funniest people I know.

4.  Have good friends.  This is a tough one.  I am a very lucky person in that I have some very dear friends who have become a family to me.  I've retreated from them in a lot of ways too but the retreat is something I'm willing to retire from.  I think I just take in so much from so many directions and I haven't learned to filter it properly so at some point I just start to hide from everything.  Again, this is a thing a lot of people don't understand but knowing that, I can try to at least explain the need.  I feel like I've made so many gains.  I know that I tend toward depression in the winter and that was surely an issue in that season but my desire to spend a lot of time alone outlasted depression.  I started to understand what that time is for.  I need to make a conscious effort to sit with myself and process what I've been through in the day or week.  It's a nasty habit of this culture to plow ahead through each dayweekmonthyear without really slowing down to say, "How do I feel in this moment?".  So, I need to ask myself how I feel in this moment and then pick up the damn phone and call someone to talk about it.  I also really want to get more comfortable processing these things with my friends, rather than brooding over them alone.

5.  Write.  Writing has been my anchor at every turn and for so long in my life.  It's what happens as a result of my life.  It's the safest way to figure something out.  My other favorite pressure valve is singing.  Sometimes I don't have any words for a thing but a ton of emotion.  If I'm excited or angry or overwhelmed, I'll put on some music I like and belt out a few songs, it helps push the excess energy out.  Also, sometimes if I'm feeling lazy I can sing and get energy, too.  It helps I live in a house so I'm not driving neighbors crazy.  So maybe number five should officially be 5.  Find things that make you happy and do them.  Or, to be more specific, learn what soothes you.  Having outlets and hobbies and interests is an essential way to nurture the soul.  It's these things and our connections with others that really make our lives. 

This feels like another really disorganized post but it also felt like a good write.  I'd like to recap:

How to not let the world drive you crazy if you're me:

1.  Don't worry over the world's details.

2.  Don't worry what they think.

3.  Laugh at yourself!!

4.  Have amazing friends.

5.  Do what you love and what nurtures you, (even hiding away sometimes).

Wow, that's doable.  See, I should have just blogged a long time ago, I would have figured it all out.  :)  Not really, its a process.  That is, it's all part of the show, folks. 

The gods are inconsolable.

(excerpt from a work in progress)


I'm watching this new Trickster god
and he says, "Look over here!",  but I don't
as he pulls a paper flower of politic
out of his ass
and even Loki and Anansi
shudder to see
what the other hand is up to.

Can you find the poem within the poem?

One at a time, please

One at a time

I'm a one on one kinda

girl

or maybe two or three

but put me in a room full and

oh

what a mess I feel

Too many

faces voices conversations

emotions intentions states of being

too much information to

gather

in anything that looks like sense

And I may make for a corner

to scope out the scene

try to make invisible and observe

stand back and see more clearly

in a place of some sort of

peace

and somewhere that feels

safe and out of the way

and not in the middle

and not having to think

of something

to

say when you don't

have any idea what people

are talking about

and you really want to

sit down and

figure it all out with

yourself.

battlefield

battlefield

my sisters are a battlefield
broken war-torn territories
ravaged by misunderstanding
raped with neglect
shot in the back by subservience
and our tender off-shoots
our sweet rows of makings
we do our best to tend with open loving hearts
knowing still that we bring them into a world
that makes war against itself
makes war within ourselves
makes war out of and into everything crawling upon it
so that what we do our best to grow
has still to contend with blood-soaked soil
with the bones of some like them
with skeletons others think we don't see
and we,my sisters and me, we're battlefields
walking around in shells that a less and less covert war
is being waged against
walking around in shells that are somehow not right
somehow not powerful
or not given trust
when what's true, more true than any of this,
is that what lay within us,
we, the sisters of the earth,
is the only living solution to all this death
our freedom is the freedom of all
it's the freedom of women
and it's the freedom of children
and of animals
and even of men
because as it may seem the white men are ruling this world
what's really come to pass is that their world
is ruling us all
and though we lay beneath their feet
there is yet a heavy weight on them
having used such strength to hold back our Amazons
they now falter
they now fail
again and again they fail us
with their “ideas” and “plans” and “proposals”
because not one single time in any proposal put forth
can you find the word love
or the idea of freedom for all
the idea of borderlessness
the idea of differentlessness
they simply can not see
the whole within the one
they need us to show that to them
but they've long since stopped listening to our talk
if we want them to listen
we have to talk man talk
and man talk has no translation for
the good of all
it has no understanding of
the end of all wars for good
it doesn't include the concepts of
living sustainably, communally
because this is what we all need
we need our sisters to help hold us up
it gets tired, walking as a battlefield

Bridges

Bridges

We seem to be busy with the business of
throwing all our cards on the table
face up, of course
mostly hearts, a few clubs, a couple diamonds
and they're all spades because
we call things what they are
and there are a lot of them
enough to build a house I think
or I think
we could build a city an Empire!
complete with sewers and skyscrapers
with Japanese bridges and Georgian hotels
with stop signs and churches with parking lots
with laser light shows and skies full of stars
with seasons that swing one to the next
into years of how have you been

But I've seen these cards before
and the cities they can create
I've seen them balanced-ish
piled up lavish and extravagant
I've seen them
make into fantastical, impossible shapes of wonder and magic and awe
so many empires forged
by the hands we've played
and, like any game, these cities have ended
towers felled and bridges torn (though never burned)
temples tumbled and roads akimbo
trees uprooted and clouds collapsed
not carefully put away but
turned to simply cards now
splayed on a dusty table, sticky with
after party and two empty bottles of Boone's Farm
in the back corner of a room
that no one ever goes in to anymore

Or, at least it seems that way
I think sometimes I
dream there
little snippets of places
I'm sure we made before
and it falls out into my journal
from time to time
till I start to wonder if there aren't little trolls
building bridges back and forth from
your deck to mine

Or, maybe it's just that someone left the door open
because we seem to have found our way back to that game again
now standing, a bit awkward by the table,
as we always are at first
and when it's been so long
'do you remember how to play?
or which deck is whose?
or how we made that one cool thing, you remember...
yea...'

and the city starts to build itself again
empirical regeneration takes place
ripples the table into asphalt undulation
almost without our attention a new
but familiar cityscape is constructed
and we, duly deposited in the middle

So we find ourselves here,
in this new place
made of old spaces
and it must be time to talk strategy
but I look over at you and I'm wondering
how to strategize my way out of the game
I no longer wish to rule an empire of play
and I notice you haven't picked up your deck yet either
and we're a little nervous standing
in this city we're supposed to be building
a city of this-is-what-this-looks-like
and I decide to walk away from the table

You ask me where I'm going and I tell you
I'm looking for the last bridge out
of this city
back into the world
and I walk away without asking
whether or not you're coming with me.

Relay for Life 2011

Last year I watched the Relay for Life from my backyard and was inspired to write a poem that I shared here.  The event is happening as I write this and earlier I decided to walk over to the park with my daughter and hand out a few copies of the poem, I suppose in gratitude for all they do.  I looked around for the main tent for the event and was being shown who to speak with when a woman walked up and asked, "You're the poet, you wrote that?".  At first I wasn't sure we were talking about the same thing.  How did she know about the poem the I had just walked over to share?  Because I posted it here, she found it and they had planned to read it at the luminaria ceremony.  They asked if I would read it and I almost chickened out, to tell you the truth.  But then I said I would do it and I'm so glad I did.  It was wonderful to offer support and gratitude in that way and a great experience. 

So!  In honor of that wonderful annual Ypsilanti event (and all the others) and every person walking around the park behind my house right now and every person sleeping there because they've walked themselves tired, and everyone involved in, supported by, remembered by, and blessed by that event, I'd like to re-post that poem.

Just Before Midnight

Amid the song of a soulful night bird
and the scent of a damp, happy willow
across the sound of the Huron gliding by
I watch

On a path encircling the park
surrounded by luminaria
they walk

They walk for their family,
their friends, themselves
for memory and the chance of anticipation,
for dreams cut short and those made possible

The path beneath their feet,
on any other day like any other path
is, for this time, a sacred space of healing and unity
it's a circle of community
of shared grief and triumph
of support and understanding
of true empathy

This walk is for warriors
these are people who live life up-close
and with eyes wide open
because they know how fleeting a gift this is
and how graciously given

These are warriors of grace and vulnerability
who know what it means to love ferociously
the strength that takes, and that which it gives
They have come here through moments
of intense contemplation, through new
rearranged priorities, with changed
worldviews, and open hearts

They bring colorful tents and coolers
are served midnight pizza
have music to move them along
but my favorite is the laughter-
that audible evidence of joy
shared one to another

These warriors come here as
humanity at its best
they come to do for others
to raise awareness and give voice to the silent
to celebrate life, having learned what that really means

They come with faith in themselves
and in one another
because they know they can make a difference
and they do.

Con Pluma en Mano

Con pluma en mano

The Muse wants your meat
she wants you heart and soul on a platter
over and again every day
she cares not if you're driving or working or trying to sleep
she strikes on her own time in her own moments

she often sends little trinkets
shiny junk for journals to collect
and if you don't, if you refuse these gifts
she takes away your meat
takes the big thoughts little by little
striking indifferent matches to
ideas before they become words

summoning her only makes her grin
but she'll pounce when least expected
insisting words, sounds and silences
creating the compulsion of pen on paper
or fingers on keys striking mercilessly
till her tide abates and she's appeased

she has favorite places
spots to sit that tend to host her visits
she likes the outdoors
and while she can't be commanded into presence
she takes kindly to those
who make special arrangements for her
who honor her with simple ritual
and wait, patiently open
with pen in hand

What to Call You

A poem I wrote last winter.  Maybe more to come.


Thinking of your name and how it can feel
surprisingly strange in my mouth like
not what it's meant to mean and how
we so seldom used those words
to each other but I see your name
a lot of authors named that, you know
and I work in a library
(hi, nice to meet you)
and I see your – that word – I see that word
and if I let it, it brings me your eyes
it brings a little reluctant smile
a warm softening born in an old moment
it can bring your touch, so much gentle comfort
and a giggle, in how it's never quite fit

I'd have to leave this language
to try and put some sounds to you
maybe en Español, mi compañero
but I think even there it will become a poem
there's no one word in any single language
if Time could talk, we'd work something out
and Light waves describe how they inform experience
through the twice upside-downed eyes
and Scent explain how my nose knows
what you've touched and not touched
and my Skin explain what comes through
so that when we touch you go straight to my bones
and if Memory could collaborate to collect the colors
of all the pieces of time we've shared
and if Energy were given voice and the inclination to testify
to how it's gathered between our bodies

if Atoms had voices
or the Universe could sing
maybe I could find a way
but for now I'll just call you
hey, how've you been?

Stopping By

I really had every intention of sharing poetry last month and when I looked at what I'd written over the winter, there wasn't much I wanted to share.  I also want to commit to blogging regularly again but for now I'll have to settle for stopping by once in a while. 

I hate to come here to complain but I'm having one of those micro/macro-cosmic angst kind of days.  I tend to let stress build up and then experience it all at once.  It's always mostly money.  I have to wonder what I'm doing working a full day every week just to pay for gas to get to and from work for the week.  Then I wonder why billions of people are starving while America is full of dumpster pizza.  The prevailing injustice of this world makes my mind swim.  I truly can't grasp it, I can't believe it's this way.  My inner idealist is sure it doesn't have to be so. 

This is probably a "syndrome" and there's probably a pill I could take.  I'll call it WTFS, What The Fuck Syndrome.  In honor of my new neurosis and in the hopes of spreading it, I'm sharing a poem I haven't posted on this blog.  I wrote it last year and it's one of my favorite. 

Clamor

Good Evening Ladies and Gentlemen and
Welcome to the Church of What the Fuck is Going On?

There are so many directions to place blame
Patriarchy. Corporate Greed. The MEDIA. Technology. Bad Government. Complacent Society.

we didn't know any better
there were so many flashing lights
and signs and voices
“Look right this way!”
and so many moving parts
and satellite beams
and digital ate analog like the way
video tried to kill the radio star
multinational multimedia channel channel channel shop! on line on T.V. by phone
for non stick hi-tech hi-def plastic remote control motion sensor
sensor sensory
sensory input
input
in put
what are we putting in?
is this stuff filling you up?

I'm stuffed!
I can't take any more of this
junk-food for the brain
high-fructose information
this saccharine distraction
layer after sticky layer
in conveniently disposable packaging
or beamed straight into your brain
only 49.95 a month

it's every new sensation
competing with so many 15 minutes
crammed between increasingly inane human antics
followed by what they call the “news”
this veil they hang meant to convince me
that this is all there is, or ever could be
constant daily rhythm of
get up go to work go home eat zone out go to bed repeat
no wonder we're numb

they're pick-pocketing our freedoms
insisting it's for our own good
rewriting history to take away truth
back room deals and
out-right theft
tarnished elections and
toxic incorporated
paparazzi exposing personal privacies
while government corruption goes untold

It's all such a spectacle, disparate but sparkly
disorienting reminding me of the Land of Oz
and we could all use a little more heart,
a lot more courage, a clear mind to think,
and the knowledge that our homes are our homes
but without those we keep moving,
perpetuating the system we seem to be stuck in
keeping heads down, arms and legs inside the vehicle
with lemming-like devotion
to our own degradation

And when we walk out of step,
when we stop and look around
when we start to think on our own
we're labeled disloyal, unpatriotic, crazy
If we start to raise some eyebrows,
that voice always comes along
to remind us The Show must go on
and to take our seats and please,
pay no mind to that man behind the curtain.

Happy National Poetry Month!

Last year during the month of April I posted a bunch of poems. That may be a good way for me to get back into the habit of blogging. I recently fell in love with the work of Nikki Giovanni, spent the winter reading her. I wrote this about her in January.


to Nikki

Woman, you are a Priestess of poetry,
bringing us the talk of God
in the voice of the Goddess
like it should fall in a woman's ears
and if Heaven thought to talk
of mortal life and love
of the doings and goings on
of we little humans
way down here

A Poetry Reading!

 I read at a poetry reading in Ypsi. on Monday.  Some of this stuff is already here but this is what I read:

At the Washtenaw Coin Laundry

I love this town and all its colors
so many shades of black and brown and tan
on skins and eyes and hair and hands
accents that come from I know not where
languages lilting lyrical lullabies
myriad mantras
so many gods all one
All One
cultures not clashing
not shocking me
only calling to my eyes and ears
with whispers of lands I'll never see
secrets of souls
swishes of fabric and whiffs of oil
spices speak sustenance
words awaken wonder
music exciting in mixed-up modes
drifts from windows where
kitchens sit with laden bread
always a table to be filled with old places
aromas abundant call back in time
ancestral answers gifting with grace
a smile touching eyes
gives me welcome without words
human-ness beyond language
beyond any perception
of not-like-me

Sovereign

She walks out freshly into her
own world, that of her making
virtuously attuned to its every breath
ever entwined, ever open
receptive to the ebb and flow of
each cycle as it passes
intuitively present with every moment
giving graciously all the gifts of herself
never failing to abide by her heart

maybe I should eat

I need some more words
I think I'll have to start
eating dictionaries
because I can't seem to come up with
enough words
or the right ones to
mean what i'm saying like
how I love the word mobius
and I know what it is
and what it looks like but
sometimes I use it when
I mean something else and so
maybe i'll have to
eat up some geometry books too
to try to find a better shape
to metaphor with
and sometimes singing
even in words that have nothing to do with it
seems to get out or get across
what i'm feelin at the time
in the most direct, most satisfying way
so maybe I should eat some cds
or music books or my violin
and when it starts to become
too surreal like
life has gone
quite strange
maybe I should start eating
some of the old and true
fairy tales
warning us of how twisted
and mistakenly lovely
life can be

shrug

nothing ever touches anything else

not really

but right now

our electrons are

powerless

to repel one another

because you've invaded

                  you have entered

                              you've been invited into

the space that my body occupies

i sigh

i smile

physics shrugs

T A L K

I don't want a lecture from longview
I don't want to pant in pantomime
I don't want crazy accusations
based on incorrect equations
or conversations leading to
conflict or kamikaze questions
I don't want expressions that come so loudly
but without any truth behind
I don't want tangled opinions
poisoning what I'm pondering
I don't want auctioneering inauthentic audio
I don't want to dilute my language
I don't want closed-minded opinions
or discouraging dissuasion
I don't want to deal with drama
I don't want pompous pretension
I don't want judgment jumped-to unjustly
I don't want to mourn mortifying misunderstandings
I don't want to navigate needless negativity
I don't want side-long glanced suspicion
I don't want mistrust in advance
I don't want base, boorish behavior
I don't want tormenting or taunting
or shameful fingers shaken
I don't want the volume of violent voices
I don't want fists standing in for sentences
I don't want unsolicited advice
I don't want decisions made for anyone
I don't want labels obscuring people
I don't want anyone's nature negated
I don't want time taken toiling in talk of tedium
I want to hear something real
I want safety in honest exchange
I want courtesy to be common
I want Universally open minds
I want constant, complicit, compassion
I want recognition of our similarity
and reverence for our differences
I don't want there to be sides

Now, if you still can,
talk with me

and some bits

They say we carry the weight of the world

on our shoulders

but I know that's men talking

cause I carry that weight

on my hips

and they sure are sore lately.

They took away the beautiful figure of the truly feminine and injected her, instead, with saline, collagen, silicone, even extra fat, all trying to attain some mythic concept of beauty in a culture that so disbelieves in myth that they can't even get the moral of that story...


 
 

Remember Pollyanna?

Michigan winter really takes a toll on me.  February 2nd was Imbolc, a day that signifies the Wheel of the Year turning closer to Spring!  I was blessed with a day off work due to the snow and found it extremely relaxing and restoring.  I think over the past decade of learning, (if not always celebrating), the Pagan holidays, I've started to become attuned to the seasons and the passage of time.  Maybe it's romanticism, but what a great thing to have in spirituality!

Whatever the cause, I do feel a bit more light, like Pollyanna's waking back up.  I think I'll ask life to try and schedule more difficult issues in warmer months.  Every year I feel tired and am easily depressed in the winter.  This year I've started to wonder about a new theory of depression, at least for me.  I think it's a kind of forgetting.  Like something inside slows down and I just start to forget how to go about my day.  I forget that when I'm having anxiety and difficulty dealing with a crowded store, my almost-smile is my best defense.  It keeps me feeling warm and safe and reminds me to slow down, and stops me from shining a scowl at everyone who looks my way.  I forget about laughter and what great medicine it is.  I think I sometimes even forget how much I love everything and everyone.  I forget, again and again, how much better I feel after spending time with friends. 

I think that may be the most important thing to remember.  I want to hibernate all winter, leaving the house only for work and necessary shopping.  Ok, I don't even want to go to work, but you get the point.  I don't want to drag myself out into the cold and wind.  My feet get wet sometimes or the bottoms of my pants.  And it's COLD!  I don't like the cold!  But then I get over it and go, because I know it's good for me and will make me feel better.

Last Friday was my birthday and I went to Hill Auditorium in Ann Arbor and watched free music with my daughter and some friends, then went to a friend's house for coffee, cake and wine.  It was wonderful!  I went to my mom's Sunday for dinner.  Then Monday I went and visited another friend and had delicious dinner and lots of fun, and Tuesday was Witches Night Out so that was a ton of fun.  (I'm just realizing that I ate at all these events.  Coincidence that I had such a good time?)

Between the year moving along and dragging myself out to have a good time, I'm finally feeling better.  I think I wasn't doing as well as I assumed with winter when I got that medical news and, coupled with the terrible way the information was delivered, it caused me to blow a fuse.  I really think I've been in a fog or in shock the past four weeks or so.  So I'm peeking out into the world now, remembering how I wanted to blog a lot this winter.  Really, remembering a lot of things I wanted to do this winter and I'm honestly not sure what I've done but that almost none of what I set out to do is done.  But winter's not over- only almost, and that's a good thing. 

I'm doing my best to welcome Polly back from her slumber.  Maybe she's been hanging with Persephone for a while?  Whatever, I need her and I'm feeling almost able.  I want to jump up and feel exuberant and shiny and excited again soon!!  I have great gratitude for all my friends, I couldn't make it through this season alone.

HELP!

They say that God never gives us more than we can handle.  They are full of shit.  If that were true, there would be no suicide.  If that were true, there would be no such thing as a desperate act.  If that were true, none of us would need any help, and we do.  We all need a lot of help in our lives- so much more than most of us are willing to admit.

I saw this within myself first- struggling and struggling and even denying the need for help when it's offered.  Then I started to notice the weight of others around me.  I think about what life asks of some people and how little support some of us are offered. We all feel good when we help someone and we know that, so why do we go to such lengths to "do it ourselves"?  I know that- for most people- asking for help is a lot more difficult than offering help or agreeing to do so.  It seems we all have this false notion that if we aren't able to do everything in our lives on our own, we're somehow generally incapable.  So then why are there so many of us?  Why develop relationships and create families if we're just going to go it alone, anyway?

I've noticed, lately, that I feel less love than I'm used to.  Like, love-for-it-all kind of love.  I've felt grouchy and irritable and resentful of people around me.  Just in general, which is not really my nature.  I'll blame some of it on winter.  I've always had problems with this season.  But there's so much more than that.

Maybe I would be feeling better if I asked for help.  Even if I'm not sure what that means right now, only to say that I feel like I need it.  Maybe that's the beginning of kindness?  I think there is a type of kindness in asking for help, in trusting someone with what feels like vulnerability.  Because like courage is moving through fear and acting in its presence, strength may be found by exposing vulnerability and asking someone to acknowledge and help heal it.  (This is all just a theory.)

P.S.  In the realm of things "they" lied about, that thing about loving something and letting it go and if it comes back it's yours?  That's blarney too.  Just thought you'd like to know.  But my thought is that if you let go with all your heart and in a loving way, you make room for something else that fits and will give love in return.

P.P.S.  I think this post makes less sense than any I've written.  Don't help it, though, it's still making some kind of point, I'm sure.  Or I hope.  Or it just felt good to write it.

Therapy Poem

So, as a woman we have an extra doctor's appointment we have to make every year.  A couple years ago I had an abnormal pap.  I was treated and recently had another abnormal result.  My doctor's recommendation is to have a partial hysterectomy- removal of the cervix and uterus.  It hit me like a ton of bricks.  I'm not even 35 yet!  But the more I've thought of it, the more sense it makes.  My mother had uterine cancer which is very hereditary and also difficult to treat and to detect.  So!  With all that in mind and also the fact that I do NOT want any more children, this seems like the logical thing to do.  I don't have health insurance so I'll have to, probably, jump through some hoops to get Medicaid to pay for it.  I think, (again), that it's totally bullshit that I am a working person living in America and I have no health insurance, (and struggle with money daily), but I'll save that for another post.

I'm talking about my uterus here.  I realize to some it may sound strange to have an attachment to a particular organ, but most women would understand.  That's my womb!  Like, my womb!  It's kinda, well, special.  And I realized a huge spiritual reaction to all of this.  Like, the life-cycle of a woman is tied into the three aspects of the Goddess- maiden, mother, and crone.  What does it mean if I give up my uterus?  Can I still call myself mother? (Of course and my daughter will too.) But these are some of the things that have been circling in my brain.  It's scary.  It's scary to have surgery.  It's scary to lose an organ. Now, I must admit that if she asked for my tonsils or my appendix, or even maybe a kidney, I would not go through the same things.  That's not to say I would not be scared.  I'll be clear, I would be terrified.  Again, surgery and loss of an organ- scary things.  But, this is hitting me a lot harder than that would.  I never really thought about it before.  I am attached to my uterus.  (okay, obviously)  But in a very emotional/spiritual way.  So, as I was taking this all in, the night I learned this, I had the urge to write it. 

I don't often deny the muse.  Like, I just don't ever do that.  Whatever I want to write or wants to be written by me, let it come.  I don't edit in my head anymore- I write too much, who am I to decide what's good before it's even on paper?  But this.  This was a difficult write to start.  The first three lines or so popped into my head and I felt the pull toward the keyboard and literally groaned, "I don't want to write this!"  Like, I didn't even want to be living it, let alone did I want to write about it.  But good sense prevailed and I gave in.  I'm glad.  It helped a lot.  And it shows me moving through the emotions.  Dancing in fear and confusion and just a couple steps forward toward courage and an identity that could never reside in an organ.  So, I'm still processing, especially since this is all just talk right now.  I'm very glad about my decision, I only hope it's feasible and will be history soon.  Any prayers would be helpful and appreciated, if you do pray.  But overall, I feel pretty lucky.  I was able to go to the doctor and find out what is wrong.  I will make it through this and one day I'll just look back and say I was brave when it counted, even if I was terrified at first.  And I know, I couldn't be brave if I wasn't terrified first, right?


not surrender


so the doctor says
maybe surrender your womb
but she doesn't use those words
     remove           uterus
like it's an organ
like a part
of my physical body
and not the place
where I grew my daughter
and not the place
where all of humanity
grows
and not the place
that makes me
woman
and she is a woman
but uteruses are her business
her work
like woman's work
working on women
and she maybe doesn't know
what all I hold there
and what we all have in there
and that it's the warm red place
where some secrets hide
and where a goddess sleeps
and it's where I grew my daughter
and I don't want another child
but it's my woman self in there
and even if they don't take my eggs
and even if I get to keep my hormones
that place will be gone
and I look inside to wonder
how things will move
because I'm not pieces
I am a whole
I am a woman

but the body-part
that walking around part of me
she says it's just not fighting
and I think what do you mean
I'm strong
I'm fighting every day
surely if the rest of me will
my body will fight too
maybe no one told her
maybe she doesn't know
those cells don't belong
do you have a phone, doc
an in-there phone
so we could call her
and tell her to woman-up
because it's taken me too long
to get this far
and I know that if I have to
I will surrender that part
and be still whole
and be still woman
because I am

because I am a fighter
and I know no part makes me me
and I know I will move through every fear
and I know where my power lies
it's not in that warm red place
and it's not in a place that can be
removed
it's a part that will always be
that will come with me
even when I leave the body
with or without its womb
or any other parts
that can't seem to fight

because whole doesn't come
from a collaboration of parts
and strength is buried deeper
than the deepest inside me
it rides up through the earth
to fill all the unseen parts
and becomes the essence
of who I really am

Something to Say

Hi everyone!  I finally feel like I have something to say.  That is, I've been thinking of something I need to come here and write out.  So, we all know a congresswoman was shot at in Arizona.  Let me first say that I'm appalled at how the media mentioned shots fired at a congress person and left out the data that other people had been killed, including a child.  That was just the first bit I saw of the story, when they weren't sure the congresswoman survived.  I detest the media.  If you've ever seen the movie "Natural Born Killers", Robert Downy Jr. plays a media personality in that film and there's a tiny shot where he's shown as a devil dripping blood.  Ok, it's gory but that little picture really exemplifies the media for me.  And it's not their blood they're covered in, it's our own.  It belongs to every citizen who is influenced by biased media, and every person whose life unfolds in the light of their skewed truth.  But I digress (as I so often do)...


What I find interesting is the question that keeps coming up about whether or not the hateful speech of the right has anything to do with this tragedy.  Let's look at that.  So, people are actually trying to decipher whether or not one political party's rampant politicking on subjects that really get straight under peoples skin could have, potentially, been enough of a trigger to send a mentally unbalanced and probably improperly medicated person over the edge to the point that he would try to kill a congresswoman for (I suppose) being a democrat.


Wow.  That's heavy stuff.  I mean, think about that.  If we're asking the question, the answer is irrelevant.  If we're asking the question, it means that we know there is a problem.  I was talking to a friend recently about how polarized we seem to have become and how it scares me.  This is one of the many possible outcomes of a country feeling like we're on different sides.  It makes me so sick because it's to the benefit, (until days like these), of each party to argue.  It helps their cause to have something to oppose.

I just have to say now, to anyone who is pro-life or against gay rights, if you vote based on those issues, you're wasting your time.  The republicans don't give a rat's ass about abortion or gay rights.  They use these issues because they know they can get to you with them.  And I, being rampantly pro-choice and a huge supporter of gay rights, am in no better shape because I know if I had to vote republican to keep my body free, or to see friends gain the right to marry, I would.  And what does that say?

To me, it says that the words mean nothing.  Ds and Rs, they're all the same.  The biggest problem, I think, when it comes to voting or any political thought, is that we're so hemmed in by these two parties.  They know it and so they can use whatever tactics they want to point our attention away from what they're really doing and to whatever they can use as distraction.  In a country where mental illness is rampant, where stress is probably at a planet-wide high, where we're fooling ourselves that we're still #1 and that everything is fine because our favorite show is about to start, where so many of us are so ignorant about the real issues, does anyone else think it might be a bit unprofessional and dangerous to start manipulating the public in order to gain a vote?


We have to become a bit more independent.  We look to these people as leaders. If they were really leaders, someone would be working to make our country work.  Driving a wedge between people based on issues that, really, shouldn't even be political is not responsible leadership.  The anger I feel at people who oppose my beliefs scares me.  I have to keep reminding myself that they're not "others".  I don't want my beliefs imposed on anyone's life, but I really think the government is digging too close to the lines of what should not be their business.  And, oh look, we struck a vein of crazy and let it loose on an unsuspecting public.  Woops.

I wish, again, that I could be giant and get everyone to go along with my plan.  Like, let's mind our own business and let people do what they will, knowing that if no harm comes to anyone, there's no need to worry.  Let's demand that our public servants serve us, instead of us serving their agenda by feeding in to their manipulation.  Let's hold our politicians up to the standards of - well, any standards would be good.  Let's start expecting something from them and stop simply accepting what they do.  There's some sort of unspoken understanding that politicians are somehow above reproach.  I say that's crap.  Let's speak up!  I can't be the only one who feels like this!  And I'm not giant yet so all I can do today is write this.  And do my best to go away feeling less angry and more compassionate, which is what we all need, I think.

a tiny hello

Hi everyone!  I've been gone quite a while and my only real explanation is that I haven't had much to write about, or I haven't felt moved to blog.  That is, I've been writing like crazy, just not here.  But I miss reading everyone so I'm going to take time to visit and I thought I'd share some recent poetry and stuff.

Things on my Fridge

You are a forest 

needing sun to grow stories

& the sea is your dream

rain beats a languid chant

to make fresh mist beneath a bare purple sky

explore your new voice

wild as a bouquet not from a garden

delicate as a petal still

your smile is a story library

man

end 

new 

&

old 

wars

whisper moon language

              never 

              cover your (heart)

from the world

              under shadow

              create beauty          (*never,cover,world,under,create came together)

wander the ancient library of the human head

explore this magic life

A poem I just wrote.

maybe i should eat

i need some more words

i think i'll have to start

eating dictionaries

because i can't seem to come up with

enough words

or the right ones to

mean what i'm saying like

how i love the word mobius

and i know what it is

and what it looks like but

sometimes i use it when

i mean something else and so

maybe i'll have to

eat up some geometry books too

to try to find a better shape

to metaphor with

and sometimes singing

even in words that have nothing to do with it

seems to get out or get across

what i'm feelin at the time

in the most direct, most satisfying way

so maybe i should eat some cds

or music books or my violin

and when it starts to all seem

too surreal like

life has gone

quite strange

maybe i should start eating

some of the old and true

fairy tales

warning us of how twisted

and mistakenly lovely

life can be

Something little I wrote last November.

Her nostrils flare like a horse when she's hot
and sometimes, when she looks at something
that makes her want to run, like to the barn,
you can tell everything else is out of focus.

Something I wrote a few days ago.

(unfinished)

working stiffs

So what has us working

as we toil for our supper

and nobody seems to be singing much

about anything

and sleep tends to defer to the needs

of a person to be a person

and sometimes around other people

and these natural needs take

an unnatural back seat to the

make-believe needs of

a culture of has-to-be

where balance is so sorely twisted

that if it were struck, even for a moment,

it would be askew

and it seems to me that most people don't see

that it's only this way because we say it's ok

we get up too early

go to sleep too late

eat food that's not that at all

being, often, grossly under-compensated

for our time and our energy

both of which are so consumed that

it becomes difficult to look around

it's hard to take it all in

to fathom the big picture

or bother to ask questions

 about- why do we do this thing

but instead just keep doing

because it's what we all believe in

and I may be a bit on the fringe when i'm thinking

we've all lost our minds

John Lennon is Still With Us (at least he's with me)

I posted on Facebook recently that I think I may operate with the same brand of crazy as did John Lennon.  A little spot in my heart mourns our loss due to his assassination.  But he was a man who really and truly believed in peace.  A great quote- "A dream you dream alone is only a dream. A dream we dream together is reality."  He was talking, as ever, about peace.  And, quite obviously, John understood about consensus reality. (Yes, here she goes again.)  Because it's true.  If we all just decided there should be peace, we would just work towards it, the government would be irrelevant.  We simply wouldn't pick up their guns and we would work for everyone, not ourselves.  But, thing is, we're so far from that now.  I'm not sure how to live the life Lennon recommended.  He said to do everything for peace.  That every action or word we share should be in the name of peace.  I think that's true but I don't live it.  I believe in it, with all my heart.  But I'm just one little human out here living and I get downright frustrated sometimes.  The point, I think, is that I keep coming back to peace.  I know it's right because it feels right.  But what does my life look like?    

I had a strange experience last weekend that, at that time, seemed such a great metaphor for my life.  I'd found a can of vegetarian baked beans in the pantry and decided that would make a fine lunch.  I went to my cupboard and got out my electric can opener, only then remembering that the last time I'd used it, it wasn't working properly.  But I tried.  I'm not sure what was wrong, but it would either cut or turn the can.  Not both at the same time.  So I fussed with it for a while and made some progress- some cuts along the inner rim, but the can was not open.  Then I decided the electrical opener wasn't opening so I got out my handy-dandy manual version- forgetting that it was also jammed.  Since my hands aren't strong enough to turn the key, (jammed good), I opened and closed the contraption on the edge of the can, piercing away, till it was cut free from its lid.  Of course, I then had to use a fork to work and pry the lid out of the can to get to the beans. 

In the time it took to open this can, I probably could have opened, heated, and eaten the beans if things had gone smoothly.  I couldn't help but think to myself: "Ya know, in other peoples' lives, this is not such a hassle.  People open cans all the time.  They take the can to the opener, push that little button and TADA! they have beans.  But not me.  Nope.  I spend 10 minutes just working to get to those yummy legumes." What does this say about my life?  I often feel like I have to work so hard to get so little- like I can't understand how some things seem to come so easily to some people.  I often feel as though there is entirely too much struggle in my life, like something should just come easily.  On the other hand, I already admitted that I knew the can opener wasn't working properly.  Why did I put it back in the cupboard at all?  Why haven't I replaced it?  I've surely had ten dollars to spare at some time in the past few months.  Maybe just barely, but still.  So maybe I actually make my life harder than it has to be in some ways.  Maybe there are simple things I could do for myself that would make my days move a bit more smoothly.

Then another thing happened and I thought, let this be a metaphor for my life.  I like this better.  Before I moved last February, I packed a necklace that is very important to me.  For Winter Solstice and Christmas, one of my best friends commissioned her husband, (another dear friend of mine), to carve baskets out of peach pits and make necklaces for myself and our two other friends.  This is an unique and beautiful gift.  It's something I would have liked if I'd seen it in a store but you won't, my friend made this for me.  Obviously this is an important item.  So, I vividly remember taking the necklace down from where it hung in my bathroom and putting it in something where I was sure it would be safe and get to the new house safely. 

I moved and I unpacked bathroom and bedroom stuff.  I found my jewelry but not that necklace.  I started to wonder- hadn't I opened every box?  But I KNEW.  For SURE.  Beyond a SHADOW of a DOUBT that it was somewhere.  After all, I packed it special, right?  Some time last January.

At the beginning of the week I was cleaning my bedside table where I have a big basket of journals and writing.  Inside that is a small Japanese vase, (about the size of a soup can.  or a bean can), that holds pens.  I use pens from this vase almost every day.  I took it out of the basket and looked inside, yep.  There was my necklace!  And the Goddess book mark I'd made myself years ago that always dis- and re-appears.  I couldn't believe it! 

But I could.  Because this is my life.  And maybe this metaphor makes sense too.  What's important to me is closer than I think.  I protect what's dear to me, even if I'm not sure how.  The little pieces of what really matters are close to me, in my days and in my dreams.  So maybe that nugget of peace I want to live is fuller than I give it credit for.  Maybe I already decided to devote my life to peace, and put it inside in a really safe place.  Maybe I can even admit that I should trust myself and do that.  Maybe, in the screaming crazy tumult that is life here on Earth, I'm closer than I think.

Winter Plans

It's December first and I can't remember the last time I wrote a blog post that wasn't poetry.  So, I characteristically ask myself: "What's up?".  I think it mostly comes down to being busy.  This is always such a stressful time of year, and there have been so many things whizzing around in my brain that none of them have been able to sit still long enough to become a complete and blogable thought.  Since I love my blog and can really see how it's improved my writing, (and I miss all my fellow bloggers!), I decided to drag something out of there.

First of all, my plans for the winter.  I've been feeling spread thin for a while now- like I'm trying to do too many things, I'm not doing all the things I should be doing, and, hence, things start becoming messy.  Like: my house, my conversations, my intentions, my brain...  What was I saying?  Oh! Yes, messy...  I feel as if I'm not giving my all to anything.  I feel unfocused and impatient, nervous and lonely, confused and worn-out.  Tasks take on a looming, monumental heft and my defense is to ignore them till they grow even more.  Plans I had got lost, some buried forever and some waiting to be found.  Intentions have become foggy, unsure.  Creativity has been spotty at best.  ( I always maintain that as long as I'm writing, things aren't really all that bad. I've been writing.)  I've been fussy and picky, moody and tired.  I've felt exposed and raw, been misunderstood and offended, and probably offensive.  I've remembered what panic feels like- not good.  I've remembered what complacency is- not good.  But through this all, the optimist is shining.

Have you ever noticed how a truth you need to tell yourself is often found in what you desperately want to say to another person?  I recently found myself overwhelmed by the beauty of another person and felt compelled to point it out.  Wondering about it later, I got it- like a migraine:  I need to realize and remember that I am beautiful.  I need to take better care of myself.  I am amazing and talented and kind and I deserve love and a happy life.  Whew... that's good to know.

So I find myself needing to re-group.  I've made a decision to scale back my social schedule this winter in order to really focus on my self and my life.  I've gotten quite good at self-therapy, calling myself on my own shit and being open to the possibility that I'm often very wrong and my motivations are questionable.  This has offered up a massive amount of questions (and even a few answers).

One of the things I need to focus on is my house.  The Little House is, currently, the Little Warehouse- as I've emptied my storage into my home.  Now, I live in a three room house with my daughter. (three rooms not counting the bathroom which is much more closely related to a closet)  I have amassed, over the years, way more books that any one person needs, (that is until said person has a home with a library), and much other lovable but not necessarily useful stuff.  One of my revelations in self therapy was the realization that my compulsive collecting started around the time my last relationship became abusive.  Wow!  That's a big deal!  That means that at that time, I felt that all this stuff was, in some way, protecting me.  I don't need protection anymore!  I can't tell you how much easier it has become to let go of things now that I know why I have them in the first place.  I need to excavate my house and make it a home- especially working on my daughter's room because it has dealt with the brunt of the storage.  Two things that are contributing to my ability to make space: many friends coming this weekend to adopt books, then some helping me to donate the leftovers, AND my landlord gave me more storage space!!  This project that felt so impossible and shameful, (yes, we pack-rats do, sometimes, actually feel guilty about what we have), now seems doable and simple.  Well, not physically simple but certainly easier than it was before.  My house is like my temple.  It's where I rest and live, it's where I create, it's where I practice spirituality, it's the heart of my experience here on earth.  Not to put to fine a point on it, but if I love my house so much in the bizarre state it's in, imagine how much I will love it this spring when it's straightened around and my daughter's room is decorated!

Aside from that, I just want to slow down.  I want to work on crafts and work through some of the meditation books I've been reading.  I want to cuddle my cats and watch movies with my daughter.  I want to go sledding and drink hot-chocolate.  I'm going to learn to cook some amazing vegetarian soups!!  I want to work out and I want to rest.  I want to, as much as possible, make my own schedule.  I want to be gentle with me, see what other amazing things I can learn about myself.  I want to attend to the most important relationship- mine with myself.

So- I will most certainly make time for my best friends (because I would surely cease to breath if I had to go longer than a couple weeks without them).  I will go to poetry readings and witches' nights out and that's it.  I'm grounded!  It feels good!!

Hope you all have a wonderful winter.  Since I'll be home, another hope is that I'll be blogging more!!

I Have a Friend

I have a friend who loves a woman
which may seem strange to some because
my friend is also a woman
but to me it only seems beautiful
it seems right
Because the woman she loves  loves her too
My friend has never said to me,
"I love this woman."
and they've never said,
"I love you."
in front of me          but I know
It's plain to see when they're together
that something bigger than the both of them
exists between these two
I can't help but feel warm, hopeful when I see that
It makes me want to dance.

because I see so many women who
don't really love the men they love
I'm not sure they even like them, actually
I do see men and women in love - happy couples are out there
They're just few and endangered    and I'm not sure what by
It's not deforestation or pollution that makes them scarce
It think, perhaps, it's the pace at which we push our lives
marriage is something that just happens
   -after college
   -after high-school
   -hopefully before kids
   -usually when people are too young to know themselves well enough to know their partner
                                        too young to ask the questions that will plague them in 10 years
Like:
-is he right for me?
-might there have been someone more suited to me?
-am I happy?
Questions that become meaningless   or destructive
between breakfast dishes and bag-lunches
between pig-tails and little league
where moms sit in the stands in a daze
wondering exactly how all their days
added up to this

I have a friend who likes men
which may seem strange to some
because my friend is a man
but to me it seems good, it seems right
because I saw the Hell he had to wade through
to admit (even to himself) what love looked like
inside him
He broke through barriers I couldn't have cracked,
toppled them to get to himself
and now he shines like a star
healthier, happier, more whole than I'd known he could be
His deepest desire (like all of our deepest desires)
is to find the right one
that partner, the companion that's right for him
I know this will happen, he'll find his one
because my friend is filled -all the way- with love
and on that day, I'll dance. 

I haven't vanished...

Hi everyone!  I got a message from PettyWitter wondering where the heck I've been so I thought I'd better stop by my blog.  I must say, too,  that it made me feel good that I was missed.  Thank you so much PettyWitter!  I've been coming and reading, just haven't posted.

This is always such a difficult time of year, this year is no exception.  I'm always in trouble with money- that's not changed.  But I find I have even more issues due, mostly, to my own procrastination.

I have thought of several post ideas that probably would have been wonderful if I'd brought them to the computer with me.  I might even get back to them in the near future.  Just right now, I think I feel a bit of a mess.  I've had a hard time focusing.  I know I'm not alone in this, it's a messy time of year.  I'm going to have a day-dream now and set it all straight:

-I have more than enough money- enough for bills, gas, and food, enough to treat my daughter to a great Christmas, and enough to save a bit and donate a bit.

-I work in a job I love.  Not only in a place I love, but doing work that feels worth-while, like I am making a difference in people's lives.

(ok, so far this daydream has a theme)

-I take time to take care of my body.  My great job offers me health insurance so I go to a doctor regularly for checkups. I go to dentists and eye doctors, too.  More importantly and more exciting, I exercise regularly, I do Yoga at least 3 times a week, I take long walks and I have fun doing weights and cardio.

-I write every day  (ok, i almost always do)  but now I have more time for it somehow.  I have started one book and have ideas for others.

-I cook. (i'm learning)

-I spend time every day with my daughter, doing something fun.  We never rush.

-My house is almost always clean.  The clutter is manageable and we keep up with all the day-to-day.

-I spend more time practicing and working with my spiritual path.  Meditation has become a part of my daily life.  I am working through those books I keep reading.

-I meet my partner.  This may not be just yet-even in my daydream.  I want to be so sure all these other things are in place, being so picky about myself but also being honest with myself and the fact that if I don't have these things in place, it will be too easy to forget my life and pay attention only to him.

-Witches' powers become real and I can bring true and lasting peace to the world.

(ok, i may have gone a bit overboard on that last one but a witch can dream, right?)

So, this is my daydream for today.  What's yours?

November 2, 2010

Entry for One Shot Wednesday

I voted today
in the linoleum yellow underbelly of
Emmanuel Lutheran
the place that plays Kumbaya to me
on great big bells while I sit by the river

was it only strange to me
to be voting in a church?
maybe more so to people
who still like our church and state separate

I stood in line for my ballot
taking in the colorful Alleluia banners
the children had made
I wondered what they celebrated,
what they praised and gave thanks for as they made them

driving to the polls I was behind a semi on the freeway
on the back a sign with an American flag told me about
our country not giving aid or comfort to "the enemy"
Shock settled in        anger stirred
as if all the people - the citizens - of Afghanistan and Iraq
are our enemies          personally
they're as helpless to their governments
as we are to ours
in the dust next to the sign
someone had written the name Jesus
He would be hurt, I think, to see this
maybe even ashamed       or that's just how I felt
I don't think Jesus believed in enemies
I don't either

but waiting for that line we've all felt so divided
I've never felt us so polarized before
it scares me
I feel obligated to vote only D
because the things the R's say -
they really scare me
but I wish I could vote G or I
without feeling it a loss

letters
behind collapsible plastic privacy
a black felt marker with
No. 2 oval holes
I break out my cheat-sheet
(yep, I wrote it down. just to be sure)
fill in all the right spaces and
a machine - secretly - sucks it away from me
I got a sticker (my favorite part)
I don't know if I've changed anything
or how much of a difference one can make this way
I'm not sure I trust the whole thing
much more than McDonald's Monopoly
but, I suppose, Alleluia
that I have a right to try.

Happy Birthday to Blog

This blog is one year old today and I felt the need to write that down. I'm so happy I started writing here! It's opened me up as a writer, which is what I was hoping for, but through it I've found so many other wonderful writers and formed a few really special bonds. Great big Thank You to all you bloggers for doing this, for sharing with me and for reading and responding. The blogosphere is a rich and vibrant community and I'm very grateful to be a part of it.

In Numb

For One-shot Wednesday:



I feel so disconnected lately
I try to have a focused thought
and all I get is dial tone
when most of the time it's like hearing
six conversations bleeding through
but none of them make much sense
all overlapping and unfinished
and above it all a nasal monotone intones:

"You are now operating in survival mode."

So I move through the day
the same as the one before
doing all the 'have to's
so it seems just like living
only without really touching anything
and the voice continues:

"You are now operating in survival mode."

Then I'm angry at that voice
I want to defy her
so I shake myself with music,
laughter, conversation, books
I sing really loudly
when a feeling does come through
because I find they've become too big for me to hold
I shake myself to try to snap me out of it
but I'm still out of it
so I do what I can to comfort me
but in the background:

"You are operating in survival mode."

So I move again to the music,
the laughing, the talking, the words
I see how these things bring
each a tiny reprieve
and as the voice goes on and on
I live between breaths

I'm Pollyanna, Nice to Meet You

I talk a lot about my "inner Pollyanna" here on this blog, in the hopes that you've all seen that movie. If not, you probably know what I'm referring to. I have an unstoppable optimist inside. She's not always active, as we can say about most of our "parts", but she's always there. It's the part of me that believes we can do everything we dream. She absolutely refuses to believe that "this is the way it is, this is the way it's always been, and this is the way it must continue to be...". Nope. Polly thinks that's lazy and a cop-out.

What Polly really believes in is the power of intention. She believes in each and every one of us doing our best. I love to harp on consensus reality so I'm going to touch on that again. In principle, it says that reality is what it is because we all agree- by consensus. It's the biggest sense of "life is what you make of it". Think about that statement. If life is what we make of it, why not make something different, better? Why not let our imaginations run to wild and wonderfully healthy places?

So many people feel like I do, I'm learning slowly. We don't believe in war. We don't think life should be lived for money. We believe in love as a verb, as a way to live. We believe in the ability of each of us to make the planet a better place to be.

I believe in a future that's so different from what we've been led to believe as possible. I believe in not fearing one another. I believe in a world where a woman can walk down any street alone at any time of the day or night and have nothing to fear. I believe in a world where we realize that we are all brothers and sisters, that we're all connected. I believe in a world-wide culture that includes everyone, where we love each person without needing to know anything about them. I believe in giving help to others because they need it, not because we think we might need help in the future. I believe we could come to a point of not-needing, of everyone having enough. I believe that even thought the state of the world is so far from this now, it wouldn't be that hard to bring us here. I believe that deep down, every person wants this. We all want to feel seen and to be heard. We all want to feel loved and feel "good". We are constantly creating strife for ourselves as we struggle against and through the systems we've created to "keep things in-line." If we work on trust, we could drop our defenses and give every person the means to do their best, to grow without fear into a world that welcomes and loves every one for who they are.

If you think this is naive, you are holding us up!

This is Alanis Morissette with Pollyanna's theme song, "Utopia":




We'd gather around
All in a room
Fasten our belts
Engage in dialogue
We'd all slow down
Rest without guilt
Not lie without fear
Disagree sans judgement

We would stay and respond and expand and include and allow and forgive and
enjoy and evolve and discern and inquire and accept and admit and divulge and open and reach out and speak up

This is utopia
This is my utopia
This is my ideal
My end in sight
Utopia
This is my utopia
This is my nirvana
My ultimate

We'd open our arms
We'd all jump in
We'd all coast down
Into safety nets

We would share and listen and support and welcome
Be propelled by passion, not invest in outcomes
We would breathe and be charmed and amused by difference
Be gentle and make room for every emotion

This is utopia
This is my utopia
This is my ideal
My end in sight
Utopia
This is my utopia
This is my nirvana
My ultimate

We'd provide forums
We'd all speak out
We'd all be heard
We'd all feel seen

We'd rise post-obstacle, more defined, more grateful
We would heal, be humbled, and be unstoppable
We'd hold close and let go and know when to do which
We'd release and disarm and stand up and feel safe

This is utopia
This is my utopia
This is my ideal
My end in sight
Utopia
This is my utopia
This is my nirvana
My ultimate

Hi, I'll Be Your Fool for the Evening

I've been really struggling lately. I'm doing my best to stand outside myself and look in and I'm not totally thrilled with how I've felt lately. I think it has a lot to do with the weather. I don't deal well with winter and while the weather right now is perfect, fall is the precursor of winter.

So I've been picking myself apart- again. I'm frustrated over my inability to find positive ways to speak out about things I'm upset about. I truly don't know how to express my anger in a way that's, well, less angry. Most people would wonder why I would want to do that. If you're angry, just be angry, right? But the problem is that I know better. Well, no I don't. I know that if I allow the actions of others to insight anger in me, I've become a part of the problem. The second I start acting or speaking from a place that is not loving, I'm working against what I want the world to become.

I was talking with my mom yesterday and telling her how I've been feeling depressed and somewhat disconnected and she said she thinks most people are feeling that lately. It's the economy or the state of the world, we're all depressed. That's when I realized why it's so important to me to keep my Pollyanna attitude intact.

I realize that sometimes I come off as ditsy or silly, some people equate happiness with being vapid. That's ok with me. I'm not very attached to what other people think of me because I know who I am and if someone thinks I'm stupid, they simply haven't gotten to know me. What is really important to me is the way people feel when they're around me. Have you ever noticed how someone who is incredibly happy can just light up a room? When you're happy, you don't really keep it to yourself, it gets shared by those around you. Just like love- when you give it away, you have so much more than you started with.

One of my dearest friends is a Tarot reader and we were talking about the Fool card a while back. The picture of the fool shows him about to walk off a cliff but he's totally unaware and gleeful. People have different perspectives of what this means but what it's really about is trust. Having trust that everything will work out in the end, that all will be set right- that's what the fool is about.

So I'll be the fool for the whole world if I can. If my silliness, my joy, my love for everyone, my ability to be strange and awkward and still happy can help lighten the weight we all carry, sign me up! I don't want to slip into cynicism, I don't like it there. It's dark and dusty and, quite frankly, it scares me a little. We all need to be reasonable in our expectations lest we get crushed over and over. But that doesn't mean we stop believing in the impossible!

So, Polly has dusted herself off, she's taking a little nap to refuel, and any second now she's going to start beaming again for everyone.

Dying to Be Themselves

I'm not sure where to start with this as I'm full of so many emotions. I'm sure you've all seen the news and are aware that there have been a number of suicides lately due to bullying based on homosexuality. This is so hard for me to deal with, so hard to think about. I remember being bullied as a kid- for no particular reason- and how scary it was. I can't imagine how difficult it would be, when you're a young person just trying to come to terms with who you are, to have people act in such hateful ways based on something that can be difficult in the best of circumstances. It absolutely blows my mind that we are losing kids- really losing them, gone, not here with us any more- due to the hateful acts of ignorant people.

I'm so angry! And I'm sad and scared as well. What's going on in the world when people will push someone that hard- right to the end of their lives? Self-acceptance is difficult for us all. As I've mentioned before, our society isn't set up for self-love. It's set up to make us feel insecure so that we will buy things that might make us more acceptable to others. But these kids had an even more difficult road to self acceptance simply because of who and how they love. I think that's what bothers me the most when it comes to gay issues. I don't think we should have to say "gay rights". It's totally stupid. These are simply human rights! But maybe I'm expecting too much of humanity. When I've talked to my 10 year old daughter about gay marriage, she says, "Mom, I don't understand. If they love each other, why does anyone care?". I'm so proud! And that's what really pisses me off. Who has the right to ever tell anyone who they can or can't love? How can love, in any form, ever be "inappropriate" or "unacceptable"?

I don't accept religious beliefs as a reason to be hateful towards the gay population. If you think it's wrong, don't do it. I hear a lot of self-righteous Christians rallying against gay people. I don't find their religion acceptable. I think it's been a bloody, hateful, judgmental, hypocritical mess since Jesus left the planet but I don't protest against it because it's not my business. I simply don't go to church. And in my opinion, Jesus would cringe if he saw people acting so ignorant and destructive in his name. There was a group protesting at a military funeral because they protest the military's "acceptance" of homosexuality. How sick is that? What compassionate faith would drive someone to go to a funeral, where family and friends are mourning the loss of a LIFE, of someone they love, and set up camp to complain to that person's boss? How is it they were not arrested? I don't want to hear about someone's freedom of speech. It's not free when you're hurting others! It's utterly unacceptable and, to me, shows signs of mental illness.

In local (to me) news, the assistant Attorney General of Michigan has been stalking a student of the University of Michigan. More than stalking, the man set up a blog devoted to slating this poor person. He went to his home, to parties he attended, called him a Nazi and racist- all baseless. When I first heard this I thought, "Wow, that guy should really be fired." Then I thought, "He should really be jailed, too, because that's so scary. He made the young man's life unsafe!" Now I'm thinking he should be institutionalized. Indefinitely. I mean really, who does these things? So that man was being paid with my tax dollars and spent his time terrorizing someone he doesn't know based on his sexuality. That, to me, is seriously an indicator of mental illness and I'm creeped-out to be sharing a state with the man. Wherever he is, it's not far enough unless he's behind bars or surrounded by padded walls.

That's what I really can't understand. What drives people to do these things to others? Why would anyone want to be hateful to another person? I have never seen a gay rally for anti-anything. I see gay pride. That's awesome and obviously much needed. In a world where we're plagued with war, starvation, greed, homelessness... Where so many are lacking the basics of survival, how can people waste their time hating others for loving each other? I don't think we should be able to vote on gay marriage, it should be a non-issue. It should be anyone's human right to marry the one they love. It's something the Religious Right uses to get people riled up and draw attention from the real issues. Anyone who would vote against it would not be affected by the law anyway. I don't want to hear about money or benefits either. That's a really sick and sad reason to stop people from making their bond legal. But then, that's what our society really values- money over love.

I have gay friends and I have to say, I know so few couples who have that real, true, visible love but I see it in many gay couples. It's couples like these that give me hope for finding true love in my life. Who would ever want to destroy that? When there is such a lack of love on this planet, who would ever want to come between two people who share it?

It might sound harsh but I believe the people who were bullying these kids should be jailed as accessories to their deaths. Make a new ruling- accessory to suicide. That might be the only thing to stop this kind of behavior. How is it fair that they're walking free, probably feeling good about themselves, and the people they tormented are not with us anymore? It's a crime, plain and simple.

For the Love of Self

I talk a lot about love here and while I won't attempt to define the indefinable, I would like to try to bring it into clearer focus. It's a word used so often that there are innumerable definitions: romantic love, familial love, love between friends, love of the earth and nature, love of art... It seems a lot of emphasis is put on romantic love, probably as it tends to be the most compelling, most tumultuous interaction we share here in life. It certainly shows us the range of our highs and lows.

When I talk about love, I'm most often talking about something I have no words for. I have love for my daughter and my family, love for my friends and my cats. I love my house and my city. I love good food and music. I love books and learning. I love life itself and I'm learning to really love myself but none of these add up to what I mean when I talk about love. If I could add them all together, and multiply them by the number of cells in my body or the number of bodies on the Earth, it might start to come close.

Someone said to me recently, "What I really want is love.". It was said with a mixture of more sorrow than hope. My immediate response, (believing that the person meant romantic love), was that we have to love ourselves before we can really love another. Not only that, we have to love ourselves before we can accept that another could love us and really feel that love. I had to think about this, though, because I have a bit of sorrow when I think of the desire for (romantic) love in my life. I have huge love for the world, so much I can't stand to see all the strife. I know that this is an impersonal love, not fueled by what others do so much as by what we all are. I also feel that I've started to cultivate a strong self-love that, while new and somewhat small, sustains me through most things. If I have these big forms of love, why do I feel sorrow around the desire for an other? I suppose it's just loneliness- that feeling I've successfully denied for so long.

Self love must be the beginning of all love in a person's life. I think- no- I know that when you don't love yourself, it can be so hard to imagine really doing so. We see so many things "wrong" with ourselves and the world tends to reinforce these beliefs. It's everything from how we look to what we do. We could spend our lives picking ourselves apart, and in some ways most of us do. Many of us find it hard to feel good about our accomplishments. Some of us may even feel we haven't accomplished anything of merit at all, (I have those days). Still others have amazing accomplishments and realize that but the success itself can set up some insecurities. They start to wonder if people really like them for who they are, or for what they've done.

All that just to say that self-love is not rooted in our accomplishments or lack thereof. It doesn't matter what we've done or what we may do. Self-love is about who we are right now, in this moment. We don't have to do or change anything in order to be lovable. The first step is compassion. It's to forgive ourselves for all we do that we think is wrong. It's to realize our true nature as good and kind and innocent. We're not here to attain perfection. We're not here to know it all or to get it all right. When people think, "I'll love myself when I lose a few pounds or when I finish this book or when I find someone else who really loves me.", they're putting off the true joy of those things. If you don't really love yourself, you can't trust that another would truly love you. It becomes a weight we put on another person, to make us feel loved and therefore lovable.

Compassion for yourself is the most important first step (I think) in loving yourself. If you can slow down and, rather than pity yourself, (which leads- as I well know- to depression), simply acknowledge all that's been difficult and hurtful in your life but see how you've made it through that, you're on your way. If we start to be compassionate with ourselves, we start to want to take better care of ourselves. Then we see what a gift this life is.

Not only that, we need to realize that everyone has had some struggle. Everyone gets kicked. The world simply isn't (don't tell Pollyanna I said this) a gentle, loving place. I really do believe that when we act in gentle, loving ways the world around us tends to respond by being more gentle with us, but no matter our efforts or beliefs, hardships come to us all. Also, we all make mistakes. We all have bad habits. We have all treated ourselves in unloving ways. No person here is doing everything "right" or perfectly. There are no perfect people on this planet and yet most of the time, we're trying to put our best face forward, trying to make ourselves look as "good" as possible. We all try to make it seem like we're doing a fine job handling everything, even and especially when we're struggling.

But when we love ourselves, it brings a bit of humility that allows us to reach out and ask for help. We stop trying to "look good" and start trying to feel good. Sometimes that means, "I can't do this all on my own and I'm going to ask for the help I need." When we're willing to do that, we also may become more willing to help others, seeing it not as a burden but as an important part of living a full, happy life. How much do you hate to ask for help? How much do you love to be of help to your friends? Isn't that strange?

So to address (but not answer) the issue of self-love in terms of romantic relationships, I have to assume that it will strengthen any bond two people create. If they already know that they're lovable, they have learned to take care of themselves, and they know it's safe to ask for help, so much more communication becomes possible. They're not dependent on one another to make them feel worthy. They also know that everything is not up to one person. It's balanced and they both feel supported by the other without being completely dependent. They can go about their own lives without fear of losing interest by not being with someone every minute. They will make an effort to remain entrenched in their own lives rather than starting to live the life of the one they love. They will see how they can each remain who they are, and yet something more than the sum grows between them.

From this place, it would become so much easier to really love someone. You would realize that you're not losing anything by giving. It would be so much easier to establish trust and intimacy because you're able to let down your guard, to be your true and authentic self with someone. And I think that's what we all want, ultimately. We want to be loved but we want to be loved as ourselves, not as that 'best face' we put on for the world. We want someone to really see us, to see all of us and say, "I love you", and really mean that, to the bones.

So since I'm not in a place to really talk about romantic relationships and, honestly, still not sure I'm ready to embark upon that journey, I will keep working with this big love I'm learning. It's a bit safer but no less profound. It's what allows me to say, with truth and integrity, that I love you to the bones. Yep, you, reading this right now. I may never have met you and I may never meet you but I love you because you're beautiful and worthy of love. I love you because you're here on this Earth, struggling and delighting, laughing and crying, loving and hurting just the same as me. I love you because I know I'm not alone. I love you, not because it's what we're supposed to do, but because it's what feels good. I love you because I think it's love that we're made of, that binds us one to another. I love you because you deserve to be loved.