Sensing and Simplicity

One idea I have been introduced to and have been trying to absorb is that if you numb the negative, you cannot feel fully the positive. Sometimes it feels like I am standing on a mountain. I have climbed to the top and I feel happy. Then immediately I start to slip down the opposite slope. It can be disappointing to sense and feel something beautiful and then let it fall so fast. But another idea I have been toying with is, what if my happiness is not tainted by sadness, but only seasoned with it? What if they just go together? Does that really make happiness worth less? Maybe it is like putting salt in cookies or sugar in spaghetti sauce. At first it may not make sense, but they actually taste better that way. Maybe feeling both emotions simultaneously just means simply that: I feel. It just means I am alive. My mind likes the idea, but my heart resists. Then my heart finds healing in the notion, but my mind get confused in all the little nuances. Then I write poetry to try and make sense of it.

There is a poetry in the way that the streetlight reflects on the wet asphalt as it rains.

And in the way it smells.

As it rains, even the pavement can hold beauty.

As it rains, even I can believe in the power of using my senses

to awaken my connection to this world.

As my soul curls into the contentment of sensing

I am energized and stand on a mountain

from which I can see both happiness and sorrow.

I do not want to cheapen one by refusing to feel the other.

Rain helps me remember that simplicity is the answer.

Not that life is simple, but that it simply must be accepted.

Mess and all, sorrow and all,

confusion,

joy,

love,

heartbreak,

and never ending questions.

Blessing to live a "normal" life

I think it is a gift to be born into a normal life that never takes a zig-zag turn for the famous or the exorbitantly rich. However stuck in dreamland my average life leads me to be, it is a blessing to have a true identity rather than a persona built by paparazzi. Although it may seem my life is lacking in glitz compared to that of the financially privileged, the public eye is often blind to the airbrushed and empty everyday. Although it seems I am more physically flawed, those in the lime light have a time-hungry beauty, painted and pinched into the mold. They sell out. They role play. Cameras flash and capture only a piece of the real picture that is them. In contrast, when I greet you eye to eye I hope we not only see, but feel-everything that is genuine about each other.

Current

I feel caught up and lost in life again.
The rush of time is pushing from behind,
What is rushing past
causing me to stumble forward.

I wade in deeper,

digging into the pebbles and sand with my feet,
clinging with my toes and flinging my arms out wide

trying to keep my balance.

But the slick coating of algae on the rocks

prevents me from finding my footing

on what should feel more solid
and more familiar after each dip and crossing.

One wrong step-
one wrong choice-

and I teeter with the breeze and current,
stranded on one unsteady limb.

Reminding myself to breathe
I place my air-born foot down beneath me.

My heart beat settles.

I gain composure.

Then at that exact moment God sends a bird swooping,
calling me back to the reality
of his power over my every predicament.

I fall backwards with a splash.

And I laugh.

For I was trying too hard to travel through life and time
forgetting to just sit and soak it in.

Whenever I say "go" / No more. No less.

The past week I've been a slug. There has only been 1 day in the past 10 that I did not sleep at least 8 hours... and some days I slept as many as eleven or twelve. It has felt fabulous! Too much sleep and plenty of time spent doing absolutely nothing has definitely helped in my recuperation from this past semester. However, I've been growing lethargic; a week of being a vegetable is enough.

So, being trapped inside by rain I've done a lot of thinking - if you can call it that. It's more like I've been letting my thoughts drift with every air current. But it has been a bit productive. I've reached a point where some of what I want is becoming clear in my mind again. I can tell because I no longer want to sit around waiting for this or that life milestone to pass me by before I am going to be happy. I have some ideas of what I want and now I am going to work for them. I am tired of thinking to myself, "oh, just make it through _____ and you'll be happy." Fill in the blank with "this freezing cold walk home", "finals' week", "graduation", "finding my Prince Charming", etc.

Of course achieving goals and deciding to be happy will be hard and take continual re-commitment, but that's what this is: a re-commitment. And I invented a hyphenated word to prove it.

I am happiest when I live remembering that I can start over whenever I say "go."

And if that isn't enough food for thought, all this drifting contemplation reminded me of this blurb I wrote a couple years ago:

8/16/08 - No more. No less.

I'd say it all comes down to how much you want it, but I'd be wrong, because there are always exceptions to the rule. However I think saying that comes pretty close to the truth. I've seen it in action – actually I've seen more lack of action. Everyone has excuses for something, but in reality everyone should just tell the truth, “I didn't want it bad enough.” If there is something or someplace in this world that you desire enough, you are going to work against all obstacles in your way. If you don't care about where you are headed or what in life you achieve, well, then you are going to be stuck in one place. Just don't go blaming the weather. Blame yourself. I'm not saying that if you wanted to fly a kite to the moon you could do it if you just wanted it and worked at it. That's a bit beyond impossible. I'm saying that your first goal should be to figure out what you want, and the second to go after it with all the strength you have within you. No more. No less.

Don't worry; I'm still working on it.


~~~~~And I'm still working on it. ~E

Personification in Reverse

Instead of objects described with personality, me - a person - in the form of an object, or two or three. (Well, we can at least pretend I am a person.) Written August '09.

"I think if I was a color out of the Crayola 64 box of crayons I would be goldenrod, although sometimes I wish I could be the robin's egg blue or go back in time and be the macaroni and cheese I would have been as a kid. I really am goldenrod though, somewhere between an orange and yellow that is the best color for drawing sunshine.

If I were an item of clothing I would be a knit cardigan sweater, although I would perhaps like to be a pair of blue jeans too. However, there is just something about sweaters that feels very comforting and comfortable. The same thing goes for that worn out pair of blue jeans that you hope never gets a hole in the butt, because you wouldn't be able to wear them, but you do wish would get holes in the knees, because then they would make you feel cooler.

If I were a scent I would be the mixture of sunscreen with chlorine that always reminds me of summer days. Or I would be the smell of a nectarine that tempts you for days before you finally think it is ripe enough to eat, and then upon cutting it open and eating the whole thing you realize you were too impatient and it would have been better if you'd waited one more day. But obviously you couldn't.

If I could be a sound I would be the crash of waves on the beach or the steady beat of heavy rain. I wouldn't be the thunder though, however powerful it's just not me. I would however be the sound of wind in the trees that whispers and makes you feel as though you could fly.

If I could be a sitting position, even though that may sound odd, I would be sitting Indian style with legs crossed - comfortable, informal, compact and kept to myself. I would also have a big pillow in my lap to hug and for your head to rest on or hide your face if you don't want to be seen. I'm all about being comfy and cozy, or just about sitting in the most awkward positions ever. "

Seed

Oh, my plant class has truly gotten to me I think. Lots of it is rather boring, but lots of it is cool. I love wandering around my town identifying trees and marveling at fall colors and the creations of God. As I usually write a poem or two when procrastinating papers, I wrote this one, a bit inspired by seed dissections and glowing, glorious sunlight filtering through golden autumn leaves.



The seeds of relationships are sown,
results unknown
and one begins to sprout.
It breaks free of the shell that kept it safe
in times of strife and harder days,
because it couldn't grow inside the walls of self for all time.
It sought more from the world-
in fresh air and spirit-lifting sunny rays.
With faith it looked to light and sky and deep horizons,
envisioning growth as a means to see a better, fuller view of life.
Without reaching, strong in courage,
it would never flower and achieve its greatest potential,
being all it could be as a loving family tree.

"Reflections" and super man band aids

I never really shared my goal to post once a week although this was initially my aim. I haven't met it consistently yet, because I prefer to post things I have written recently or older works that I once again feel are important to my life and current clarity. The role poetry plays in my life cycles and I didn't write any poetry this week, so I was sifting through old poetry files and came a cross this from a couple years ago.

I find it just as true now that I recognize myself more in the eyes of strangers when sharing a genuine smile than I do at any other time. It is kind of puzzling to realize that amidst all the search for self that goes on in the world, forgetting that search by tripping on a crack in someone else's heart ultimately heals your own. May we all trip more often and carry super man band aids.

"Reflections"

Who am I?
Do I recognize myself?
Is my image in the mirror really me?
I feel more like myself smiling into the eyes of strangers
than I do by looking in a mirror or with inflection.
Is that the right word?
It's not reflection but action.
“Smiling from the inside out.”
Forgetting to wonder about identity
by getting lost in work and service,
and in the process being your true self
or a better self.

Inflection - Introspection... same diff. Not really, but sometimes it seems wrong to change a poem two years later, because it changes the essence of the moment it captures, when the right words don't always come when called.