No matter what holiday you celebrate during this time of year, I hope you are filled with joy, peace and deep, beyond-description Love.
May the possibility of a well-lived Life spur you to take the action(s) to make it happen in this coming year. And, if you are living your possibility remember, no matter how bumpy the road there is much to be in awe of all along the path.
Much, much Love to each of you!
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
No Such Thing As Anonimity
A dear friend and fellow blogger reminded me that with a simple Google search on my name, my blog would magically appear. No problem, except that in a world of ever increasing scrutiny any little thing can sway public, corporate or organizational opinion of you.
So, I'm going on record as saying I have always Loved my job; always found my current organization a positive place within which to grow and thrive; always felt challenged by my work and rewarded for my efforts. Yeah.
Be well!
So, I'm going on record as saying I have always Loved my job; always found my current organization a positive place within which to grow and thrive; always felt challenged by my work and rewarded for my efforts. Yeah.
Be well!
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Madonna - Diva in a Track Suit
Well, age catches up to us all. I suspected it was true, but Hollywood is so good at faking the funk I wasn't sure anymore. Until Monday night, that is.
My neighbor called as I was hurtling along the highway, attempting to make if home to my couch (otherwise known as the repository for my big brown behind) and the TV. The womanchild was in the passenger's seat whining about what we were going to have for dinner and all was right (or at least the same) in my world.
ME: What's up, girl?
She: What are you doing? Got plans for tonight?
Me: Ha! Why what have you got going on?
She: Well, wanna go see Madonna at the Arena?
Me: You're kidding, really?
You get the picture. I considered not going for a moment - the allure of the couch's siren song was pulling me. But, my daughter snapped me out of it by saying "Are you CRAZY? It's MADONNA!" Oh, yeah. So, a little well placed deodorant and lipstick and I am back in the car, headed to my neighbor's and off to see the Material Girl in all her splendor.
What I love about these outings with my neighbor, JR, is that she works for a huge telecom company and gets the best perks. So, we arrive and have pre-arranged indoor parking right next to the entrance of the arena suite area. A flash of our tickets and we are led to the suite where finger food and drinks await.
The concert was scheduled to start at 8:00 pm so we arrived around 8:15, figuring she would start at 9:00 pm. I had my fill of wine and munchies and, like everyone else got excited when the DJ came on around 8:30 pm. He played for 40 min or so and then everyone started to cheer.
Unfortunately, it was almost 9:55 before the blonde bombshell showed her stuff. Now, that may not seem late to you folk but, I'm 52 - a card carrying AARP member - and that's dangerously close to my bedtime; on a work night no less!
But, the music was pumping and our hips were bumping as the crowd became one mass of Madonna fever. We sung, swayed and cheered until 11:15 pm (when in an effort to beat the crowd I suggested we leave). And it was fun but, I wonder if wasn't just the joy of reliving a bit of disco youth that made it enjoyable, instead of the music itself.
After the first flush of excitement, about 1/3 of the way through the concert, I noticed that Madonna wasn't dancing very much. It was clever, the hip gyrations here and there; perfectly placed so that the dancers did the hard stuff and she swayed along. Maybe I noticed because I had taken my daughter to see Beyonce last year and, at 20-something, she tore the stage apart with her moves. Never having seen Madonna live and in concert before, I wondered what her costumes would be like. Her past wardrobe is legendary. Surprisingly, for most of the concert, she wore workout clothes - shorts and tank tops. No more cone breasts for the 50 year-old Mom. And that's as it should be.
I don't expect Madonna to perform like she is 20; I guess it was just a little hard to see her winding down. Because I am winding down too. When I compare myself to my past I see what has fallen away by degrees. Some things I long for again though I know they will not return (my eyesight for one). Others I am still fighting to hold onto or regain (my sense of humor about Life and my physical dexterity). There was a time when I could do a back bend - full out, from a standing position on the floor. I fear such an attempt would land me in bed, on a regimen of muscle relaxants for a week.
The story I grew up on was that by the time I reached this age I'd be able to see retirement and years of carefree relaxation. And since 50 is the new 40, I'd feel like a young woman, too! Okay, okay so I believed the hype and now my rude awakening is here. Such is Life. But, it's nice to know that even in the midst of reality The Queen of Pop can help me remember how much fun shaking my booty could be.
Hope our Thanksgiving holidays were filled with Love and joy. Until the next time...
My neighbor called as I was hurtling along the highway, attempting to make if home to my couch (otherwise known as the repository for my big brown behind) and the TV. The womanchild was in the passenger's seat whining about what we were going to have for dinner and all was right (or at least the same) in my world.
ME: What's up, girl?
She: What are you doing? Got plans for tonight?
Me: Ha! Why what have you got going on?
She: Well, wanna go see Madonna at the Arena?
Me: You're kidding, really?
You get the picture. I considered not going for a moment - the allure of the couch's siren song was pulling me. But, my daughter snapped me out of it by saying "Are you CRAZY? It's MADONNA!" Oh, yeah. So, a little well placed deodorant and lipstick and I am back in the car, headed to my neighbor's and off to see the Material Girl in all her splendor.
What I love about these outings with my neighbor, JR, is that she works for a huge telecom company and gets the best perks. So, we arrive and have pre-arranged indoor parking right next to the entrance of the arena suite area. A flash of our tickets and we are led to the suite where finger food and drinks await.
The concert was scheduled to start at 8:00 pm so we arrived around 8:15, figuring she would start at 9:00 pm. I had my fill of wine and munchies and, like everyone else got excited when the DJ came on around 8:30 pm. He played for 40 min or so and then everyone started to cheer.
Unfortunately, it was almost 9:55 before the blonde bombshell showed her stuff. Now, that may not seem late to you folk but, I'm 52 - a card carrying AARP member - and that's dangerously close to my bedtime; on a work night no less!
But, the music was pumping and our hips were bumping as the crowd became one mass of Madonna fever. We sung, swayed and cheered until 11:15 pm (when in an effort to beat the crowd I suggested we leave). And it was fun but, I wonder if wasn't just the joy of reliving a bit of disco youth that made it enjoyable, instead of the music itself.
After the first flush of excitement, about 1/3 of the way through the concert, I noticed that Madonna wasn't dancing very much. It was clever, the hip gyrations here and there; perfectly placed so that the dancers did the hard stuff and she swayed along. Maybe I noticed because I had taken my daughter to see Beyonce last year and, at 20-something, she tore the stage apart with her moves. Never having seen Madonna live and in concert before, I wondered what her costumes would be like. Her past wardrobe is legendary. Surprisingly, for most of the concert, she wore workout clothes - shorts and tank tops. No more cone breasts for the 50 year-old Mom. And that's as it should be.
I don't expect Madonna to perform like she is 20; I guess it was just a little hard to see her winding down. Because I am winding down too. When I compare myself to my past I see what has fallen away by degrees. Some things I long for again though I know they will not return (my eyesight for one). Others I am still fighting to hold onto or regain (my sense of humor about Life and my physical dexterity). There was a time when I could do a back bend - full out, from a standing position on the floor. I fear such an attempt would land me in bed, on a regimen of muscle relaxants for a week.
The story I grew up on was that by the time I reached this age I'd be able to see retirement and years of carefree relaxation. And since 50 is the new 40, I'd feel like a young woman, too! Okay, okay so I believed the hype and now my rude awakening is here. Such is Life. But, it's nice to know that even in the midst of reality The Queen of Pop can help me remember how much fun shaking my booty could be.
Hope our Thanksgiving holidays were filled with Love and joy. Until the next time...
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Tonight The World Changed
for me and mine. I have never been prouder, felt stronger or readier for the task at hand. I realize we are at the beginning - nowhere close to being near an end. This is where the work starts, this is where the challenge truly begins, this is the time we get get to choose. We can choose to create a world where we listen to one another, honor one another, care for one another. we have the chance to acknowledge our differences and neither glorify nor minimize them, simply accept them and use our strengths for our common good.
I know this is 'Pollyanna', but that is the most beautiful part of this win. The audacity of hope - to believe again in the possibilities of Life as good, fruitful and shared. I have worked my whole Life towards this end. I am more than grateful for the possibility that it might be realized.
For those who have been opposed to this journey, I invite you to come along anyway. You just might find something better than you have ever known.
Peace to all.
I know this is 'Pollyanna', but that is the most beautiful part of this win. The audacity of hope - to believe again in the possibilities of Life as good, fruitful and shared. I have worked my whole Life towards this end. I am more than grateful for the possibility that it might be realized.
For those who have been opposed to this journey, I invite you to come along anyway. You just might find something better than you have ever known.
Peace to all.
Monday, October 06, 2008
Living In A Black Box
Some may have noticed the little black box to the right.
It has become my preferred surfing vehicle. It has everything I need in a ride - it's shiny, attractive, asks me to ponder Life a bit and takes me to new and interesting places. What a pleasure! Everyone should have one.
You're welcome to take a ride anytime. If you arrived here using your own Black Box, please say hello and come back anytime.
If you want one of your own, just click the link below the box.
It has become my preferred surfing vehicle. It has everything I need in a ride - it's shiny, attractive, asks me to ponder Life a bit and takes me to new and interesting places. What a pleasure! Everyone should have one.
You're welcome to take a ride anytime. If you arrived here using your own Black Box, please say hello and come back anytime.
If you want one of your own, just click the link below the box.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Elephants & Asses
Elephants and asses sitting up on a hill,
Want to make me swallow
a bitter and costly pill
They stammer and they stutter
Then frustrated, they shout
'You fool, if you don't the world will crumble'
But, I try to spit it out.
They played their hand, ran the table
and now they're out of trumps.
Why should I pay for their folly?
For their riches now defunct?
I'm a single middle class working mother
And nobody gives me a break
I'm left to eat chili daily
while the fat cat's eating steak
10 hours a day, no health care, the mortgage payments due
There's no gas for me to fill the the tank
Yeah, they've played me for a fool
So, why should I try to keep afloat
A system that didn't work for me?
That left me to pull up by my boot straps
and was fueled by simple greed?
700 billion dollars
For the wealthy man's payday
In the end I know they'll tax me
and there's little I can say
My short stick keeps getting shorter
It's a bitter pill for sure
The saddest part is knowing
It's just a stop gap, not a cure.
'Cause the illness that we really suffer
is "them that's got shall get"
and nobody's willing to upturn the cart
to really fix it yet.
Take good care...
Want to make me swallow
a bitter and costly pill
They stammer and they stutter
Then frustrated, they shout
'You fool, if you don't the world will crumble'
But, I try to spit it out.
They played their hand, ran the table
and now they're out of trumps.
Why should I pay for their folly?
For their riches now defunct?
I'm a single middle class working mother
And nobody gives me a break
I'm left to eat chili daily
while the fat cat's eating steak
10 hours a day, no health care, the mortgage payments due
There's no gas for me to fill the the tank
Yeah, they've played me for a fool
So, why should I try to keep afloat
A system that didn't work for me?
That left me to pull up by my boot straps
and was fueled by simple greed?
700 billion dollars
For the wealthy man's payday
In the end I know they'll tax me
and there's little I can say
My short stick keeps getting shorter
It's a bitter pill for sure
The saddest part is knowing
It's just a stop gap, not a cure.
'Cause the illness that we really suffer
is "them that's got shall get"
and nobody's willing to upturn the cart
to really fix it yet.
Take good care...
Sunday, September 21, 2008
The World As I Know It
I am more disgusted with government than I have ever been and that is saying a lot.
I have listened to the Sec'y of the Treasury, Henry Paulson, Jr. explain why we need to bail out the financial industry, and I support that strategy, with conditions. But, I have also heard him say that there will be no constraints on earnings for CEOs. They will be free to evidence poor performance and still receive millions in compensation. Hearing that I am left to wonder how that can make sense to anyone.
Paulson is right when he says we don't have a lot of time to figure this out. But, I wonder why he and the rest of the Republicans kept telling us everything was okay, this past year. Don't worry about the price of oil, don't worry about the downward slide of the market, don't worry about the mortgage markets, it'll all be fine. Don't worry, be happy?
I predict that if we maintain the status quo (the conservative dog-eat-dog-I-got-mine-tough-shit-if-you-didn't-get-any policies of the past 30 years), those who made millions off of the predatory lending practices (inclusive of credit card debt) and extraordinary gas profits (another cause of our current state) will likely continue to prosper while the average American will see her taxes increase enormously while her standard of living plummets.
The concentration of wealth in this country has been squeezing the middle class and poor for so long that I think most people believe this is how it should be. And, as long as we could be kept happy, with that new house and new car and new debt, we were willing to go along. Well, that is our shame. But, who bears/bares the shame for laying the table full of nothing but dessert and pretending it's a nutritious meal? Yes, we ate the eclairs but veggies were never really an option when the government made all its decisions based on protecting and advancing the interests of the wealthy.
Today, there is a lot of outrage and, on the part of the financial leaders who have robbed us for so long, a huge sense of fear. Save us, they cry, or Life as we know it will fall apart. They are asking the American people to share the burden of their folly.
THEY WANT YOU AND I TO SHARE THE BURDEN!!
But these same people cried foul when asked to create programs that would share wealth with the poor or the middle class; they believed we should cut back on funding education, public hospitals and social programs. Now, they want us to share? And I know that we will, because we are so afraid that the little we have will become far less if we don't.
I believe that more than any other mental construct, this is our national shame. Not that we serve our self-interest but, that we so narrowly define our self-interest. We have never really believed that we are deeply interconnected. Even though we attend church services and drop our dollars into the collection plate, we still don't believe. Like Cain, we ask "Am I my brother's keeper?" And shamefully we believe the answer to be no.
In what has been known as the greatest nation on earth we are willing to throw our homeless in jail to get them off the street rather than pay additional taxes to support changing their lives positively and for the long term. We look at our failing neighbor and assume he or she is solely responsible for their lot in Life; unwilling to make the societal changes needed to fundamentally change his/her condition. In this time of crisis, many of us are willing to vote an inexperienced and unqualified woman into office rather than tackle the real and difficult problems of women in poverty (Information on women in poverty).
Our national shame is that we are willing to be coldhearted, calloused and even violent when it comes to anyone we consider to be outside our circle. We saw it shortly after 911 (and continue to see it) when anyone looking remotely like a Muslim was subject to attack. We see it when the subject of welfare mothers is raised (and I am not in favor of long term or generational subsistence policies). The entire world saw it when the global climate change realities (created by consumption patterns that kept the middle class feeling falsely secure and made the rich much richer) hit the poor of New Orleans.
Here, in my town, we have a large group of people on the north side who want to separate from the rest of the city and create a new one. Their reasoning is that they shouldn't have to fund public schools, hospitals or other infrastructure for the poor. Why should we have to pay taxes to support a school system when our kids go to private school, or pay for hospital services for people who can't afford them, they ask. Why, indeed.
The why, in my mind is obvious. Because we are all connected, one mass of humanity struggling to survive on a damaged planet. You cannot ignore the needs and realities of your brothers and sisters and expect to have a healthy family. It is simply not possible.
But, until we can answer Cain's question positively and resoundingly; until we can stand for the least of us as quickly as we will jump to bailout the financial elite, we will continue to bear the consequences of our narrowly defined self-interest.
I know many of my fellow US citizens are thinking seriously about how to vote in this election. There has been talk of elitism and a disconnect from the everyday man and woman on the part of Senator Obama. I'd like to ask you to consider the following:
The challenges we face are far too complex to be managed by an everyday guy or gal. This is the time when you want the smartest, the most level-headed, the least prone to snap decisions, the most thoughtful leader you can find. Now is the time to move away from the legacy of fear and narrow self-interest within which we have been spinning. Now is the time for each of us and all of us to change, deeply; to reconsider our knee-jerk responses to crises and conflict, to move away from the panic button and be thoughtful about our approach to the future.
What we have done in the past 30 years has brought us to this time. Let's face it squarely with strength of heart and truth.
I'm voting for Barack Obama in November because the world as I know it is in trouble and I don't trust the creators of that trouble to help me find my way out.
I am voting for Barack Obama because I believe he can help us become better than we have been.
I am voting for Barack Obama because the answer always shows itself and it seems clear that Obama is part of the answer.
Take good care, one and all...
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Life is Fragile and It Keeps on Coming, Too
This weekend was very interesting. I must remember to ask my friend Audrey if Mercury is/was retrograde.
Friday night I was the person designated to get my neighbor, Julie, to her surprise birthday party. It was quite a struggle because I had 3 things to do, all around the same time. My daughter had to get to her first high school football game by 6:00 pm. My Mom had to go to the doctor by 5:30 pm and the neighbor had to be at her party by 7:30 pm.
For the better part of the day I was in a staff retreat that went really well but, kept me from the high level phone use I needed to coordinate this madness called my Life. Feeling stretched in a hundred different directions I started to decide what had to be lopped-off.
The baby girl still hasn't forgiven me because, after 5 calls to other Moms, I couldn't find anyone else going to the game that could bring her home. I promised that I would move heaven and earth for the next one.
Mom called and left a voice mail (that I didn't pick-up until too late) that informed me she was driving herself to the doctor. Unfortunately, she gets turned around very easily and, it turns out, she was headed to the wrong office. If I had listened to the message I could have gotten to her in time. But, I was trying to speak with her directly so I kept calling her w/o checking voicemail. She, on the other hand, never answered the phone. Not 1 out of the 5 times I called that day.
When I finally did listen to the messages, she was shouting at me on the last one to listen to the messages! "I'm driving myself, you can go get baby girl and do whatever else you need to do. I will get to the Cooperville Office on my own." I'm not sure why she was so frustrated, probably the stress of deciding to go it alone. I tried to call her to tell her that she was making a mistake, but she didn't answer. By the time I got home she was livid, having missed her 5:30 pm at the Southgrove Office.
Then, Julie was being completely uncooperative. She didn't want to go out, she wanted to stay at home and play Rummikub. I worked my butt off to convince her that we needed to go out. I talked about my successes this week and how I just wanted to go out to a nice place and have a small bite and a few drinks.
Meanwhile, my secret plan was to have my baby girl take Julie's youngest for a walk then call me to say she (my daughter) had twisted her ankle. This would give me a good excuse to drive my neighbor to the pool area where we were staging her party.
Finally, something was going to go right. We ladies were nicely dressed and ready. The kids had started off on their walk. She went upstairs to her bathroom to put on a little make-up and I went out to the car to pass her husband (who had just driven up) the wine.
As I closed the car door I felt a little pinch on the middle toe of my right foot. Thinking I got caught by a mosquito I kept walking to hand off the wine. In the 3 minutes that it took to put the wine in the back seat of their SUV and walk back into the house I could feel that something was wrong.
My lips were tingling and then they started to hurt. My ears were hot and my entire head began to hurt from the inside out and the feeling was moving to my arms and chest. It was under the skin and everything was burning and hurting and hives began to appear. I could feel my eyes and mouth swelling and when I ran to the mirror I was treated to a sight that I can only describe as Will Smith's scene in "Hitch". Only, it was a lot funnier in the movie.
I called out to Julie to see if she had any Benadryl and thankfully, she did. I took 2 quick dissolving strips (the doctors later told me that they prefer the quick strips to the tablets) and hoped that I wouldn't explode before they had time to work. While my breathing never became labored, I could feel myself on the verge of hyperventilating from the stress of it all. This is when all that meditation comes in handy. I did the deep breath, Zen thing and kept myself calm.
Just as I walk over to the sofa to sit down, my phone rings. It's my baby girl, right on time. I couldn't help but laugh (to myself, of course) and sent my neighbor off to scoop up my falsely crippled child and enjoy her party.
Having seen my condition, Julie wanted to come back to her house and see about me. I managed to convince her to send someone else back with my daughter and immediately called my health care provider. The very pleasant nurse practitioner told me to go to the hospital immediately. She stayed on the line with me until my daughter arrived and I got in touch with another neighbor to take me to the hospital.
By the time I got there a good bit of the swelling had subsided but, they wasted no time before stabbing me 4 times in unsuccessful attempts to start an IV. It was at this point that I looked around, read the signs and realized that I was in a teaching hospital for nurses. Yep, I was a pin cushion.
I believe the term they used was infiltrated, when the pain in my arm became so severe I thought I would shout a mouthful of cuss words at the next medical staff person to pass by. Finally, they took the damn IV needle out and advised me that I would be there for a few hours of observation.
I'm guessing the look on my face (and my adamant pronouncements to the contrary) made them change their minds because within 15 min I had discharge orders and my freedom.
Now you might think that all's well that ends well but, the next day my daughter had a hair appointment to get the tips of her locks dyed.
All I will say is this - orange, yellow, tears and two dye jobs at home to correct it.
Life...
You gotta Love it!
Friday night I was the person designated to get my neighbor, Julie, to her surprise birthday party. It was quite a struggle because I had 3 things to do, all around the same time. My daughter had to get to her first high school football game by 6:00 pm. My Mom had to go to the doctor by 5:30 pm and the neighbor had to be at her party by 7:30 pm.
For the better part of the day I was in a staff retreat that went really well but, kept me from the high level phone use I needed to coordinate this madness called my Life. Feeling stretched in a hundred different directions I started to decide what had to be lopped-off.
The baby girl still hasn't forgiven me because, after 5 calls to other Moms, I couldn't find anyone else going to the game that could bring her home. I promised that I would move heaven and earth for the next one.
Mom called and left a voice mail (that I didn't pick-up until too late) that informed me she was driving herself to the doctor. Unfortunately, she gets turned around very easily and, it turns out, she was headed to the wrong office. If I had listened to the message I could have gotten to her in time. But, I was trying to speak with her directly so I kept calling her w/o checking voicemail. She, on the other hand, never answered the phone. Not 1 out of the 5 times I called that day.
When I finally did listen to the messages, she was shouting at me on the last one to listen to the messages! "I'm driving myself, you can go get baby girl and do whatever else you need to do. I will get to the Cooperville Office on my own." I'm not sure why she was so frustrated, probably the stress of deciding to go it alone. I tried to call her to tell her that she was making a mistake, but she didn't answer. By the time I got home she was livid, having missed her 5:30 pm at the Southgrove Office.
Then, Julie was being completely uncooperative. She didn't want to go out, she wanted to stay at home and play Rummikub. I worked my butt off to convince her that we needed to go out. I talked about my successes this week and how I just wanted to go out to a nice place and have a small bite and a few drinks.
Meanwhile, my secret plan was to have my baby girl take Julie's youngest for a walk then call me to say she (my daughter) had twisted her ankle. This would give me a good excuse to drive my neighbor to the pool area where we were staging her party.
Finally, something was going to go right. We ladies were nicely dressed and ready. The kids had started off on their walk. She went upstairs to her bathroom to put on a little make-up and I went out to the car to pass her husband (who had just driven up) the wine.
As I closed the car door I felt a little pinch on the middle toe of my right foot. Thinking I got caught by a mosquito I kept walking to hand off the wine. In the 3 minutes that it took to put the wine in the back seat of their SUV and walk back into the house I could feel that something was wrong.
My lips were tingling and then they started to hurt. My ears were hot and my entire head began to hurt from the inside out and the feeling was moving to my arms and chest. It was under the skin and everything was burning and hurting and hives began to appear. I could feel my eyes and mouth swelling and when I ran to the mirror I was treated to a sight that I can only describe as Will Smith's scene in "Hitch". Only, it was a lot funnier in the movie.
I called out to Julie to see if she had any Benadryl and thankfully, she did. I took 2 quick dissolving strips (the doctors later told me that they prefer the quick strips to the tablets) and hoped that I wouldn't explode before they had time to work. While my breathing never became labored, I could feel myself on the verge of hyperventilating from the stress of it all. This is when all that meditation comes in handy. I did the deep breath, Zen thing and kept myself calm.
Just as I walk over to the sofa to sit down, my phone rings. It's my baby girl, right on time. I couldn't help but laugh (to myself, of course) and sent my neighbor off to scoop up my falsely crippled child and enjoy her party.
Having seen my condition, Julie wanted to come back to her house and see about me. I managed to convince her to send someone else back with my daughter and immediately called my health care provider. The very pleasant nurse practitioner told me to go to the hospital immediately. She stayed on the line with me until my daughter arrived and I got in touch with another neighbor to take me to the hospital.
By the time I got there a good bit of the swelling had subsided but, they wasted no time before stabbing me 4 times in unsuccessful attempts to start an IV. It was at this point that I looked around, read the signs and realized that I was in a teaching hospital for nurses. Yep, I was a pin cushion.
I believe the term they used was infiltrated, when the pain in my arm became so severe I thought I would shout a mouthful of cuss words at the next medical staff person to pass by. Finally, they took the damn IV needle out and advised me that I would be there for a few hours of observation.
I'm guessing the look on my face (and my adamant pronouncements to the contrary) made them change their minds because within 15 min I had discharge orders and my freedom.
Now you might think that all's well that ends well but, the next day my daughter had a hair appointment to get the tips of her locks dyed.
All I will say is this - orange, yellow, tears and two dye jobs at home to correct it.
Life...
You gotta Love it!
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Work, Work, Work!
The interviews, back-to-back, each for a Director position, happened on Tuesday. The first was for the job I am least interested in and I figured that was good. This way I could practice my calm and composed responses (I'm grateful to the meditative practices that I was introduced to at a young age) on the first panel grilling me. Hopefully, I'd do well enough so that I would gain momentum going into the next interview.
The first panel was tough to read; they rarely smiled. In fact, one of the panelists furrowed her brow midway through my response to her question and said "I don't understand what you are saying", then asked a follow-up question. I paused and thought of another way to answer the question. That one seemed to go over a bit better but, I had the feeling that points were definitely lost.
All tolled, the first interview lasted about 40 minutes and, by the end, I'd managed to slip in a funny line that made at least half the panel (there were 4 panel members) smile. I still couldn't shake the idea that I'd left at least one of them less than enthused.
On to interview #2. Deep breath, door opens, 5 panelists are introduced and I take my seat. Question after question is shot at me. The hypotheticals were tough but, the experience-related questions were my chance to shine. And, my friends, shine I did! I brought out a laugh from this panel at least 3 times. I was relaxed and at the top of my interview game (though I must admit I am relatively interview inexperienced since 1/2 my worklife was spent running my own business).
There was a point during the interview when I felt happy, really happy. I realized afterwards it was because, within this organization, my experience has not been well respected and often seen as irrelevant. But, on Tuesday, sitting in front of those 5 executives, I was able to clearly articulate how that experience has served our organization and how it could further serve.
I believe I surprised them and that was good.
Now, it's on to a second round of interviews, most likely with the executives to whom I will report directly. I think its all done except for the politics and that, my friends, can always burst a balloon. So, send some good energy and prayers my way. Take a minute to see me in the job I'm seeking; see me working hard and enjoying the fruits of my labor.
Finally, enjoy this holiday weekend and may every bump in your road bounce you closer to your desires!
The first panel was tough to read; they rarely smiled. In fact, one of the panelists furrowed her brow midway through my response to her question and said "I don't understand what you are saying", then asked a follow-up question. I paused and thought of another way to answer the question. That one seemed to go over a bit better but, I had the feeling that points were definitely lost.
All tolled, the first interview lasted about 40 minutes and, by the end, I'd managed to slip in a funny line that made at least half the panel (there were 4 panel members) smile. I still couldn't shake the idea that I'd left at least one of them less than enthused.
On to interview #2. Deep breath, door opens, 5 panelists are introduced and I take my seat. Question after question is shot at me. The hypotheticals were tough but, the experience-related questions were my chance to shine. And, my friends, shine I did! I brought out a laugh from this panel at least 3 times. I was relaxed and at the top of my interview game (though I must admit I am relatively interview inexperienced since 1/2 my worklife was spent running my own business).
There was a point during the interview when I felt happy, really happy. I realized afterwards it was because, within this organization, my experience has not been well respected and often seen as irrelevant. But, on Tuesday, sitting in front of those 5 executives, I was able to clearly articulate how that experience has served our organization and how it could further serve.
I believe I surprised them and that was good.
Now, it's on to a second round of interviews, most likely with the executives to whom I will report directly. I think its all done except for the politics and that, my friends, can always burst a balloon. So, send some good energy and prayers my way. Take a minute to see me in the job I'm seeking; see me working hard and enjoying the fruits of my labor.
Finally, enjoy this holiday weekend and may every bump in your road bounce you closer to your desires!
Monday, August 25, 2008
The English Have Landed
We had a wonderful time this weekend!
The house was in good shape for the arrival of our guests; the painting was completed and a few repairs done. I stormed through the rooms cleaning (which if you know me, you know I try to avoid at all cost); vacuuming, dusting, organizing, washing and scrubbing.
Katie, Tom and Paul made themselves right at home, which is the best way for guests to get along, in my house, anyway.
There was a barbecue on the newly cleaned deck (which looked fantastic, if I do say so myself) and a few Atlanta friends came over to share in the welcoming of my English family-friends. The new grill worked perfectly and Paul played chef (hey Gay-el, I'm the guest, why am I doin' all the cookin?), while I made sure everyone had a full glass and plate. We ate lots, laughed and talked while the kids ran around being teenagers.
I know it was a good time because a few friends asked "why don't we do this more often?" So, I have made the commitment to do just that. Invites go out for the third Saturday in September.
Saturday and Sunday we did the tourist/cultural/educational things on the agenda. Shopping was done because the exchange rate is so favorable for them (and because Paul is a shopper - a lovely trait in a man, don't you think?).
It all went by in a rush. About an hour ago I dropped them at the airport and we said our goodbyes. It is sometimes hard for me to keep my focus on the joy and grace of what is, for however long it is, rather than a focus on what's coming next. So, I got caught a few times, over the weekend, lamenting that they would soon be leaving.
Some things just feel like there should be more.
The world travelers are now on a plane to NYC where there will be lots more sights to see, shopping and fun! But, no where will they find a warmer welcome than right here, at my doorstep.
The house was in good shape for the arrival of our guests; the painting was completed and a few repairs done. I stormed through the rooms cleaning (which if you know me, you know I try to avoid at all cost); vacuuming, dusting, organizing, washing and scrubbing.
Katie, Tom and Paul made themselves right at home, which is the best way for guests to get along, in my house, anyway.
There was a barbecue on the newly cleaned deck (which looked fantastic, if I do say so myself) and a few Atlanta friends came over to share in the welcoming of my English family-friends. The new grill worked perfectly and Paul played chef (hey Gay-el, I'm the guest, why am I doin' all the cookin?), while I made sure everyone had a full glass and plate. We ate lots, laughed and talked while the kids ran around being teenagers.
I know it was a good time because a few friends asked "why don't we do this more often?" So, I have made the commitment to do just that. Invites go out for the third Saturday in September.
Saturday and Sunday we did the tourist/cultural/educational things on the agenda. Shopping was done because the exchange rate is so favorable for them (and because Paul is a shopper - a lovely trait in a man, don't you think?).
It all went by in a rush. About an hour ago I dropped them at the airport and we said our goodbyes. It is sometimes hard for me to keep my focus on the joy and grace of what is, for however long it is, rather than a focus on what's coming next. So, I got caught a few times, over the weekend, lamenting that they would soon be leaving.
Some things just feel like there should be more.
The world travelers are now on a plane to NYC where there will be lots more sights to see, shopping and fun! But, no where will they find a warmer welcome than right here, at my doorstep.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
The Perfect Storm
Is there someone in (or out) of your Life that makes you flutter inside when you think of them? Someone who, no matter how much time has passed, causes your skin to flush and your mind to race? Some DNA-coded human whose incredible and unique biology turns you basic and animal? Maybe that man or woman became your Life partner (aren't you a lucky one!) or maybe one of you walked away...
I have visceral reactions to people - I always have. The first time my ex-husband touched me, on the day we met (he was a dentist and cradled my face during an exam), I started to cry. I thought it was because the touch was surprisingly tender but I wonder, now, if it wasn't just a case of prescience. Either way, though I Loved him dearly, he didn't fall into that unusual category.
No, there are people who can touch our lives and stir up powerful storms. Sometimes those storms are healthy and wipe away the clutter and non-essential buzz that day-to-day Life often brings. Sometimes they create such disruption that critical balance is lost and heartache and fear take over. In rare instances, the presence of one of these special human beings in your Life can do all that and much, much more.
I have had the extraordinary gift of meeting two men whose air streams have shaken my foundation. Loving them has taken me beyond fear, beyond anger, beyond heart-wrenching pain, beyond simple joys and (with at least one of them) well beyond exquisite pleasure. They have (in very different ways) helped me find peace within my heart. One man has become like a brother to me and the other remains quite the Lover.
So that, on this side of 50, I can appreciate Love for its own sake; take in Love that is tender, strong, lacking in perfection, deep and fully alive. My Love for each of them is a natural wonder that I couldn't have anticipated and, for which I am truly grateful.
I'm skipping around these days with a very pleased grin on my face because I'm going to get to hold and experience (and all manner of other unmentionables) my perfect storm, for a little while. Life can be oh, so sweet!
What about you? Any storms blowing in or through your world?
Oh, and the Olympics are as captivating as ever. Go Michael Phelps! How affirming to see someone push beyond the limits, creating new possibilities.
I have visceral reactions to people - I always have. The first time my ex-husband touched me, on the day we met (he was a dentist and cradled my face during an exam), I started to cry. I thought it was because the touch was surprisingly tender but I wonder, now, if it wasn't just a case of prescience. Either way, though I Loved him dearly, he didn't fall into that unusual category.
No, there are people who can touch our lives and stir up powerful storms. Sometimes those storms are healthy and wipe away the clutter and non-essential buzz that day-to-day Life often brings. Sometimes they create such disruption that critical balance is lost and heartache and fear take over. In rare instances, the presence of one of these special human beings in your Life can do all that and much, much more.
I have had the extraordinary gift of meeting two men whose air streams have shaken my foundation. Loving them has taken me beyond fear, beyond anger, beyond heart-wrenching pain, beyond simple joys and (with at least one of them) well beyond exquisite pleasure. They have (in very different ways) helped me find peace within my heart. One man has become like a brother to me and the other remains quite the Lover.
So that, on this side of 50, I can appreciate Love for its own sake; take in Love that is tender, strong, lacking in perfection, deep and fully alive. My Love for each of them is a natural wonder that I couldn't have anticipated and, for which I am truly grateful.
I'm skipping around these days with a very pleased grin on my face because I'm going to get to hold and experience (and all manner of other unmentionables) my perfect storm, for a little while. Life can be oh, so sweet!
What about you? Any storms blowing in or through your world?
Oh, and the Olympics are as captivating as ever. Go Michael Phelps! How affirming to see someone push beyond the limits, creating new possibilities.
Saturday, August 09, 2008
Everyday Life
School starts on Monday; which means high school, for my home. Typical to the adolescent persona, the womanchild is fairly nonchalant about the whole thing. She admits to hoping that she will find her new school interesting and engaging and, at the same time, she believes she will be disappointed. How sad is that? Because, though I know she will make the most of it, I think she is right. Education, as an industry (public and private), does little to support exploration, personal development and expression of the soul. I realize most educators would say that these things are not the purpose of education. Yet, ask almost any teenager and they will tell you that it should be.
If I know my baby, she'll find the space she needs or she'll make her own. That's what the past 14 years of focus for me have been all about; growing a young woman who knows her mind, her body and her Spirit. The rubber is starting to meet the road.
On the lighter side, the weather here has broken. We have moved out of the 90's and back into the 80's. Hallelujah! The temperature is finally bearable and I hope it lasts for a while. We'll see...
Countdown to the arrival of our guests. The painter blew me off this week but, we still have time to get it all done. I'm not fretting, it's just that having conceived a vision of my home for their arrival, I'd like to make it come alive. Send me some good energy!
If I know my baby, she'll find the space she needs or she'll make her own. That's what the past 14 years of focus for me have been all about; growing a young woman who knows her mind, her body and her Spirit. The rubber is starting to meet the road.
On the lighter side, the weather here has broken. We have moved out of the 90's and back into the 80's. Hallelujah! The temperature is finally bearable and I hope it lasts for a while. We'll see...
Countdown to the arrival of our guests. The painter blew me off this week but, we still have time to get it all done. I'm not fretting, it's just that having conceived a vision of my home for their arrival, I'd like to make it come alive. Send me some good energy!
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
God?
They say that He is the Loving God
Even though He strikes and smites
And if you have doubts you’re a sinner
Who’ll lose eternal Life
But I really don't like bullies,
Despots, tyrants or shrews
Who tell me there’s a toll to pay
For what I can and cannot do
I think folks have it all wrong
Love doesn’t operate from fear
It fills your heart with wonder
And demonstrates its care
So, keep your God, I believe I’ll pass
Until some changes are made
A little less death and destruction
A balance of sun and shade
For now, I’ll look in the mirror
When I want to cast some blame
Or at my fellow humans who commit
Horrors better left unnamed
And when this Life is over
I know not what will be
But I will have done the best I could
And that’s good enough for me
Sunday, August 03, 2008
Living My Life Like It's Golden
The woman-child is having a blast in NYC! She's been to Broadway where she saw Whoopie Goldberg in Xanadu; to Long Island where she was a camp counselor for a day; to her Godfather's job where she was offered a summer internship while in college; to upstate NY for a day in the country with old and dear friends and tonight, after a trip uptown to Harlem, she will see "Hair" in Central Park! What a wild ride and she still has another two days. Lucky, lucky girl.
While she has been gone, I've been playing fancy free adult. Sleeping nude (which I can never do while she is home because she is known to plop into my bed at 2 or 3 AM), saw Baldwin's "The Amen Corner", had tapas and drinks with a friend and spent today cleaning off the deck so when Paul and his family come from the UK we can hang out and barbecue.
Lots of scrubbing, hauling and planting and I feel worn out. One more coat of paint on the deck chairs and then I can have Brian (my handyman) come in and pressure wash and stain the deck. I'm hoping he can paint my bedroom and bathroom, too. But, we may have to postpone that until after the English folk visit.
Funny how I can live with all these things that need to be done. I can postpone the doing of them because of money shortages or time shortages. But, when people come to visit I am suddenly doggedly determined to make changes. I always end up liking the changes, too. I intend to do more of what needs to be done on a regular basis around the house.
I really very excited to see Paul and the kids. One major reason is that they all feel very familiar to me and I have come to think of them as a far-away family. I hope they enjoy themselves while they are here. The woman-child and I will certainly do our best to make them smile.
Well, I hope your days have been good ones and tomorrow only gets better. I'm off to soak in a nice hot bubble-filled tub...
While she has been gone, I've been playing fancy free adult. Sleeping nude (which I can never do while she is home because she is known to plop into my bed at 2 or 3 AM), saw Baldwin's "The Amen Corner", had tapas and drinks with a friend and spent today cleaning off the deck so when Paul and his family come from the UK we can hang out and barbecue.
Lots of scrubbing, hauling and planting and I feel worn out. One more coat of paint on the deck chairs and then I can have Brian (my handyman) come in and pressure wash and stain the deck. I'm hoping he can paint my bedroom and bathroom, too. But, we may have to postpone that until after the English folk visit.
Funny how I can live with all these things that need to be done. I can postpone the doing of them because of money shortages or time shortages. But, when people come to visit I am suddenly doggedly determined to make changes. I always end up liking the changes, too. I intend to do more of what needs to be done on a regular basis around the house.
I really very excited to see Paul and the kids. One major reason is that they all feel very familiar to me and I have come to think of them as a far-away family. I hope they enjoy themselves while they are here. The woman-child and I will certainly do our best to make them smile.
Well, I hope your days have been good ones and tomorrow only gets better. I'm off to soak in a nice hot bubble-filled tub...
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Off to Another Conference
Well, I'm in beautiful Chicago and I think I'm in Love.
Years ago, the woman who hired me for my first position in banking, told me that Chicago was a lot like New York City. In fact, she said it was the only city that had enough tall buildings to compete with NY and real heart and soul like NY too.
This is my first visit to Chi-town and I feel like I'm at home. Although the names are all wrong - like Wabash (??) the energy really is the same. I keep seeing familiar scenes; it looked like Park Ave was plopped right in the middle of Chicago as our taxi passed along one street.
Tomorrow I want to walk down by the water - it's one thing I miss while living inland, as I do.
NOW, I know when you take on a new Lover you are not supposed to keep gushing about how much they remind you of the one you left. But, I'm not ashamed to say I miss NYC sometimes - miss the smell, the rhythm and the look of my hometown.
Yep, I'm in Love with a new city - Chicago. But, New York will always be my first...
Years ago, the woman who hired me for my first position in banking, told me that Chicago was a lot like New York City. In fact, she said it was the only city that had enough tall buildings to compete with NY and real heart and soul like NY too.
This is my first visit to Chi-town and I feel like I'm at home. Although the names are all wrong - like Wabash (??) the energy really is the same. I keep seeing familiar scenes; it looked like Park Ave was plopped right in the middle of Chicago as our taxi passed along one street.
Tomorrow I want to walk down by the water - it's one thing I miss while living inland, as I do.
NOW, I know when you take on a new Lover you are not supposed to keep gushing about how much they remind you of the one you left. But, I'm not ashamed to say I miss NYC sometimes - miss the smell, the rhythm and the look of my hometown.
Yep, I'm in Love with a new city - Chicago. But, New York will always be my first...
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
A Little Life Music...
It's 1:20 am, I am sitting in a beautiful hotel room on the Universal Studios, Orlando Florida property; an Italian village mock-up with a lake and warm breezes. I am in Love with Life, at this very moment. Here is a trip I didn't not anticipate or plan for; time away from home that feels like complete joy.
I just rode back to my hotel room on a small ferry after spending the late afternoon and evening at the Universal Park. The rides were loads of fun. But the best part was the live band at the Bob Marley restaurant and nightclub. If I didn't have to present in the morning, I would have closed the joint down!
The band was made up of 5 young and talented men - an amazing guitarist (whom I am sure is really a blues man earning his bread as a reggae performer), a bass player whose fingers were thick and nimble (I've always had fantasies about bass players - not sure why, just something very cool and hot about them), the drummer and keyboard players were low keyed but each worked out on their instrument, when it was called for. Lastly, was the lead singer. A hottie, though I didn't really think he was a good singer until he began to improvise soca style. He tore it up and took me back to my family roots!
For those of you who don't know, soca comes from Trinidad/Tobago and when you wind-up to it, you work your hips like they are the only part of your body worth moving. I learned the dance when I was very young, watching my mother and her sisters. I mastered it as a young adult at Caribbean parties, complete with blue lights, patties, coco bread and scotch.
There is nothing like being brought to a state of feeling young, sexy and at one with the music! I danced for 3 straight hours tonight and only stopped because I had to get up in the morning.
I feel gifted and appreciative of Life. I wish for you the same.
I just rode back to my hotel room on a small ferry after spending the late afternoon and evening at the Universal Park. The rides were loads of fun. But the best part was the live band at the Bob Marley restaurant and nightclub. If I didn't have to present in the morning, I would have closed the joint down!
The band was made up of 5 young and talented men - an amazing guitarist (whom I am sure is really a blues man earning his bread as a reggae performer), a bass player whose fingers were thick and nimble (I've always had fantasies about bass players - not sure why, just something very cool and hot about them), the drummer and keyboard players were low keyed but each worked out on their instrument, when it was called for. Lastly, was the lead singer. A hottie, though I didn't really think he was a good singer until he began to improvise soca style. He tore it up and took me back to my family roots!
For those of you who don't know, soca comes from Trinidad/Tobago and when you wind-up to it, you work your hips like they are the only part of your body worth moving. I learned the dance when I was very young, watching my mother and her sisters. I mastered it as a young adult at Caribbean parties, complete with blue lights, patties, coco bread and scotch.
There is nothing like being brought to a state of feeling young, sexy and at one with the music! I danced for 3 straight hours tonight and only stopped because I had to get up in the morning.
I feel gifted and appreciative of Life. I wish for you the same.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head
Slipping out the back door
onto the greying wooden deck;
watchful,
cautious,
feeling just a bit wanton,
she lets the towel fall to her feet
and stands
naked
as the rain storms around and upon her.
"This is freedom", she thinks;
even though it comes with 18 years left on the mortgage
and the fear (she can't seem to shake)
of getting struck by lightening.
She is free,
in this moment,
watching the rain slide along her full breasts
cascading off her erect nipples-
she imagines molecular-sized men
on a water slide,
hands in the air
having the ride of their lives.
Taking in the sounds
of water;
whole ponds traveling through the roof's gutters and
gushing onto the ground,
she is awed by the beauty of green tree tops
against such a black-grey sky.
In direct contradiction to her surroundings
she becomes sun salutation;
all her jiggly parts jiggle mightily
but
she does not care;
there are no witnesses to her body's glory and,
if some peeper should insert his gaze into her frolic
she hopes he is made happy.
He deserves it;
as he flatters her middle-aged mind.
Her left leg slides forward
as she prepares to exit the pose
and, within a fraction of a second,
her mind registers the beam of wood
that has inserted itself into her foot.
Hopping back into the kitchen
hoping there isn't a river of blood and water
trailing across the floor,
she plops onto the nearest chair
and, realizes,
then and there,
an ultimate truth;
Nothing is free.
Not even freedom.
And she smiles.
Having just explained that much of my recent poetry is not inspired by my Life, I offer this actual Life snippet to you. We had the most wonderful rain on Sunday and I took advantage of being home alone...
onto the greying wooden deck;
watchful,
cautious,
feeling just a bit wanton,
she lets the towel fall to her feet
and stands
naked
as the rain storms around and upon her.
"This is freedom", she thinks;
even though it comes with 18 years left on the mortgage
and the fear (she can't seem to shake)
of getting struck by lightening.
She is free,
in this moment,
watching the rain slide along her full breasts
cascading off her erect nipples-
she imagines molecular-sized men
on a water slide,
hands in the air
having the ride of their lives.
Taking in the sounds
of water;
whole ponds traveling through the roof's gutters and
gushing onto the ground,
she is awed by the beauty of green tree tops
against such a black-grey sky.
In direct contradiction to her surroundings
she becomes sun salutation;
all her jiggly parts jiggle mightily
but
she does not care;
there are no witnesses to her body's glory and,
if some peeper should insert his gaze into her frolic
she hopes he is made happy.
He deserves it;
as he flatters her middle-aged mind.
Her left leg slides forward
as she prepares to exit the pose
and, within a fraction of a second,
her mind registers the beam of wood
that has inserted itself into her foot.
Hopping back into the kitchen
hoping there isn't a river of blood and water
trailing across the floor,
she plops onto the nearest chair
and, realizes,
then and there,
an ultimate truth;
Nothing is free.
Not even freedom.
And she smiles.
Having just explained that much of my recent poetry is not inspired by my Life, I offer this actual Life snippet to you. We had the most wonderful rain on Sunday and I took advantage of being home alone...
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Everyday Stuff
First off, let me thank TechnoBabe and Jorge for their comments on the previous post. It feels good to be cared for but, I am fine. I know this blog usually paints a picture of my Life so, it was probably inconsistent of me to start posting writing that was not reflective of what was going on in the moment.
My poetry has taken on a Life of its own. It demands to be written and it does so loudly. The piece, Woman Speak, was written after reading "Snowflower and the Secret Fan"; a beautifully written book about Life in 19th century China as seen through the eyes of a girl-child who grows into a woman. It evoked very strong emotions in me about the condition of women, the oppression of women, the survival of women. I thought about the reality of Life for many women, especially poor women, in the 21st century. And the poem created itself.
I just wanted you all to know that for the past couple of months the majority of my poetry has not been about my current Life situation. I am not suffering; to the contrary, I'm pretty happy these days.
This way of writing is very new for me as poetry in my younger years was all about my own angst, anger, pain or romantic joys. These days, it seems, I make a connection that allows me to see through the eyes of others and then, poetry comes. If that poetry feels powerful, I will share it here. And, I do apologize for not clarifying that sooner.
Other Happenings
1. The girl-child who sleeps under my roof is taking dance lessons with a professional company and struggling. She was so distraught the first week and begged me not to make her go back. She has not taken a lesson in the 6 years prior to this summer and is more than a bit embarrassed by her performance.
Needless to say, I am happy to know she is working hard at something that she likes. So many things come easily to her; this was a nice opportunity to help her understand the benefits of digging in and overcoming. She won't be a ballerina but, maybe she'll create a wonderful performance piece while she's in high school/college/a middle-aged woman in community theater!
2. Our friends from England are coming to visit and we are overjoyed at the prospect! Lots of fun things planned to cram into 2 days. You know, all those hometown things you rarely do because you can do them at anytime and then, suddenly, out-of-town guests appear and you try to do everything so they can get the best of the place in which you live. When we put them on the plane to NYC (ummm, lucky ducks, they get to visit my first hometown, too) I promise you they will be tired, excited and satisfied with/by Atlanta.
3. I'm working on a presentation for my job interviews (yes, plural) which will be coming up soon. I think this piece of analysis will be considered cutting edge for my organization. We'll see, but, I'm excited by the work and by the possibility of fully emerging from this personal economic downturn that I've been suffering for the past 7 years.
So, all things are well. May it be the same for you and yours...
My poetry has taken on a Life of its own. It demands to be written and it does so loudly. The piece, Woman Speak, was written after reading "Snowflower and the Secret Fan"; a beautifully written book about Life in 19th century China as seen through the eyes of a girl-child who grows into a woman. It evoked very strong emotions in me about the condition of women, the oppression of women, the survival of women. I thought about the reality of Life for many women, especially poor women, in the 21st century. And the poem created itself.
I just wanted you all to know that for the past couple of months the majority of my poetry has not been about my current Life situation. I am not suffering; to the contrary, I'm pretty happy these days.
This way of writing is very new for me as poetry in my younger years was all about my own angst, anger, pain or romantic joys. These days, it seems, I make a connection that allows me to see through the eyes of others and then, poetry comes. If that poetry feels powerful, I will share it here. And, I do apologize for not clarifying that sooner.
Other Happenings
1. The girl-child who sleeps under my roof is taking dance lessons with a professional company and struggling. She was so distraught the first week and begged me not to make her go back. She has not taken a lesson in the 6 years prior to this summer and is more than a bit embarrassed by her performance.
Needless to say, I am happy to know she is working hard at something that she likes. So many things come easily to her; this was a nice opportunity to help her understand the benefits of digging in and overcoming. She won't be a ballerina but, maybe she'll create a wonderful performance piece while she's in high school/college/a middle-aged woman in community theater!
2. Our friends from England are coming to visit and we are overjoyed at the prospect! Lots of fun things planned to cram into 2 days. You know, all those hometown things you rarely do because you can do them at anytime and then, suddenly, out-of-town guests appear and you try to do everything so they can get the best of the place in which you live. When we put them on the plane to NYC (ummm, lucky ducks, they get to visit my first hometown, too) I promise you they will be tired, excited and satisfied with/by Atlanta.
3. I'm working on a presentation for my job interviews (yes, plural) which will be coming up soon. I think this piece of analysis will be considered cutting edge for my organization. We'll see, but, I'm excited by the work and by the possibility of fully emerging from this personal economic downturn that I've been suffering for the past 7 years.
So, all things are well. May it be the same for you and yours...
Friday, July 11, 2008
Woman Speak
I was raised to look on the bright side;
to believe that EVERYTHING works out
the way it should
in the end.
My mother told me that real beauty lives within
and wisdom is a way of Life.
At the knee of my grandmother
I was taught that Love has more value
takes more courage
and brings more joy
than anything.
I was brought up in the language of women
but,
no one told me it was a code.
No worries,
the world around me was
happy to provide instruction.
Mature now,
code deciphered,
I have taken my lessons to heart
and left the woman-speak behind.
Now I know that
"everything works out in the end"
really means
Life is hard and confusing
and you will survive its chaotic harshness
until you die.
The outer world doesn't give a rat's ass
for inner beauty;
it's what's outside that counts
and gets paid.
Wisdom has no value,
but knowledge is marketed to the masses;
bottled and sold,
on tv, in public schools,
by preachers and portfolio managers.
It will even show up in your e-mailbox
with the subject header
"Make it bigger for her and she'll beg for more".
"She'll beg for more",
which, in the language of women, means
please,
stop your banging and poking
and give me something more
give me more than your limp bravado
or the back of your hand when you have run out of words,
more than short-term serial monogamy
or a ride in a fast car,
more than this swollen belly
filled with your growing seed
and a story to explain your absence.
Can you give more than an impulse?
more than a car note payment left on the dresser in the morning?
more than HIV/herpes/gonorrhea/syphilis/chlamydia or
the human papillomavirus?
more than a grumble when I can do something
some
one
thing
better than you?
Is there more than drunken Friday nights that bring you home
on Saturday morning
with the smell of a barmaid's thighs still on your lips?
more than how I need to understand about your wife and kid
and your baby mama?
more than your highs
more than your lows
more than the circumference of the small little world
that spins around you?
Can you
give me
what my Nana promised,
in the language of women -
a courageous and priceless Love?
I have come to believe,
that Nana meant
Love is woman's hope;
a hope that endures
and stands
in this world of men.
to believe that EVERYTHING works out
the way it should
in the end.
My mother told me that real beauty lives within
and wisdom is a way of Life.
At the knee of my grandmother
I was taught that Love has more value
takes more courage
and brings more joy
than anything.
I was brought up in the language of women
but,
no one told me it was a code.
No worries,
the world around me was
happy to provide instruction.
Mature now,
code deciphered,
I have taken my lessons to heart
and left the woman-speak behind.
Now I know that
"everything works out in the end"
really means
Life is hard and confusing
and you will survive its chaotic harshness
until you die.
The outer world doesn't give a rat's ass
for inner beauty;
it's what's outside that counts
and gets paid.
Wisdom has no value,
but knowledge is marketed to the masses;
bottled and sold,
on tv, in public schools,
by preachers and portfolio managers.
It will even show up in your e-mailbox
with the subject header
"Make it bigger for her and she'll beg for more".
"She'll beg for more",
which, in the language of women, means
please,
stop your banging and poking
and give me something more
give me more than your limp bravado
or the back of your hand when you have run out of words,
more than short-term serial monogamy
or a ride in a fast car,
more than this swollen belly
filled with your growing seed
and a story to explain your absence.
Can you give more than an impulse?
more than a car note payment left on the dresser in the morning?
more than HIV/herpes/gonorrhea/syphilis/chlamydia or
the human papillomavirus?
more than a grumble when I can do something
some
one
thing
better than you?
Is there more than drunken Friday nights that bring you home
on Saturday morning
with the smell of a barmaid's thighs still on your lips?
more than how I need to understand about your wife and kid
and your baby mama?
more than your highs
more than your lows
more than the circumference of the small little world
that spins around you?
Can you
give me
what my Nana promised,
in the language of women -
a courageous and priceless Love?
I have come to believe,
that Nana meant
Love is woman's hope;
a hope that endures
and stands
in this world of men.
Sunday, July 06, 2008
2 hi ku 4 u
1. Before
lie in bed alone
naked, healing, eyes open;
incite poetry
2. After
lie in your made bed
alone, naked, eyes open;
mislaid poetry
lie in bed alone
naked, healing, eyes open;
incite poetry
2. After
lie in your made bed
alone, naked, eyes open;
mislaid poetry
Monday, June 30, 2008
Island Life
In
Out
In
Out
Breath.
Remember island life?
Not the tourists' pretend days
of luxury and carelessness
but children in crisp school uniforms
chickens running through the yard
coco bread cooling on the window ledge
and blue sky
pale yellow sheets in the morning breeze
greying clapboards and peeling paint
Remember before the steel and glass hotels lined every inch of beach?
Before pink skins laid across lounge chairs and burned;
their inhabitants calling
"Girl, yes, you. Bring a scotch, plenty of ice;
I don't know how you people stand this inferno"
I remember those cool mornings
when my 15 year-old feet walked slow enough
for you to catch up;
slow enough to find your smile
lagging just a little behind my hopes.
Remember way back to your pressed pants
and polished shoes,
both handed down from your rascal brother.
I can hear pawpaw calling out my name from the doorway
and see the look in your eyes when I step onto the porch.
I was the full sum of your mind
back then.
Can you remember those days before Desmond discovered
that if he swam a 1/2 mile out from the shoreline
he could meet the tour boats
full of drunken revelers on holiday?
Back before he tried that very first time to dive down
as they tossed coins overboard
shouting "deeper, deeper - look at that boy go.
Toss him another, let's see it again"
Before Jimmy, Sonny, Nelson and you joined him
and began to bark like hungry seals;
Loud and guttural sounds
to catch the rich vacationers' attention;
for tossed coins
you suppress the need for air
to the cheers of cold-hearted onlookers.
Those red-brown coins
color of your hands
that buy shoes for our children
and too many beers for your drink
coins that pay for too many red-lipped, smooth-legged women
with soft brown hands
that do for your manhood what these calloused, ragged and worn hands cannot
but the rage running through
your river of veins is never completely assuaged.
No, there is always a little bit of that left for me, eh?
In
Out
In
Out
Breath.
The sun is red in the evening sky
the callaloo has cooled
and the children are ready for bed
In a hour or so I will light the lantern
place it in the window
and search the stars for sleep.
Out
In
Out
Breath.
Remember island life?
Not the tourists' pretend days
of luxury and carelessness
but children in crisp school uniforms
chickens running through the yard
coco bread cooling on the window ledge
and blue sky
pale yellow sheets in the morning breeze
greying clapboards and peeling paint
Remember before the steel and glass hotels lined every inch of beach?
Before pink skins laid across lounge chairs and burned;
their inhabitants calling
"Girl, yes, you. Bring a scotch, plenty of ice;
I don't know how you people stand this inferno"
I remember those cool mornings
when my 15 year-old feet walked slow enough
for you to catch up;
slow enough to find your smile
lagging just a little behind my hopes.
Remember way back to your pressed pants
and polished shoes,
both handed down from your rascal brother.
I can hear pawpaw calling out my name from the doorway
and see the look in your eyes when I step onto the porch.
I was the full sum of your mind
back then.
Can you remember those days before Desmond discovered
that if he swam a 1/2 mile out from the shoreline
he could meet the tour boats
full of drunken revelers on holiday?
Back before he tried that very first time to dive down
as they tossed coins overboard
shouting "deeper, deeper - look at that boy go.
Toss him another, let's see it again"
Before Jimmy, Sonny, Nelson and you joined him
and began to bark like hungry seals;
Loud and guttural sounds
to catch the rich vacationers' attention;
for tossed coins
you suppress the need for air
to the cheers of cold-hearted onlookers.
Those red-brown coins
color of your hands
that buy shoes for our children
and too many beers for your drink
coins that pay for too many red-lipped, smooth-legged women
with soft brown hands
that do for your manhood what these calloused, ragged and worn hands cannot
but the rage running through
your river of veins is never completely assuaged.
No, there is always a little bit of that left for me, eh?
In
Out
In
Out
Breath.
The sun is red in the evening sky
the callaloo has cooled
and the children are ready for bed
In a hour or so I will light the lantern
place it in the window
and search the stars for sleep.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Hello From Indy
Sunday afternoon I grabbed my bags and flew off to Indianapolis and work with my former business partners. We facilitate a leadership institute that is often, according to the participants, life changing and inspiring. The group we are working with this year is really big - in personality and perspective - and I am so honored to be their guide for a few days.
They come from all over the country, are male and female and, through hard work, have escaped poverty, abuse and low expectations. They are extremely intelligent and powerful, angry and gentle, hopeful and expectant. They are young and talented. It has done my heart good to be in their presence for the past few days.
On Monday, a number of the men shared their experiences of being pulled over and questioned by police for no reason other than the color of their skin. Several of them cried remembering their anger and frustration; reliving the sense of powerlessness they have endured. One young man said it so well "I feel as if I am always one mistake away from losing everything. No matter how good I am, how much good I do it can all be taken away for no reason."
Imagine living Life with that reality looming overhead.
Sucks, doesn't it?
It is truly time for a change in this country. Now, that may be a current campaign slogan but, I and others have been working towards just that for about 35 years. It's hard to see the generation behind you filled with the same pain that filled your heart; bumping up against many of the same barriers that barred your path.
Things change and yet, they remain the same.
Well, I'd better get ready for another day in Indy. I'll write more when I return home.
Until then, may each and every day be better than the day before it, every smile fuller, every laugh deeper.
They come from all over the country, are male and female and, through hard work, have escaped poverty, abuse and low expectations. They are extremely intelligent and powerful, angry and gentle, hopeful and expectant. They are young and talented. It has done my heart good to be in their presence for the past few days.
On Monday, a number of the men shared their experiences of being pulled over and questioned by police for no reason other than the color of their skin. Several of them cried remembering their anger and frustration; reliving the sense of powerlessness they have endured. One young man said it so well "I feel as if I am always one mistake away from losing everything. No matter how good I am, how much good I do it can all be taken away for no reason."
Imagine living Life with that reality looming overhead.
Sucks, doesn't it?
It is truly time for a change in this country. Now, that may be a current campaign slogan but, I and others have been working towards just that for about 35 years. It's hard to see the generation behind you filled with the same pain that filled your heart; bumping up against many of the same barriers that barred your path.
Things change and yet, they remain the same.
Well, I'd better get ready for another day in Indy. I'll write more when I return home.
Until then, may each and every day be better than the day before it, every smile fuller, every laugh deeper.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Late Nite Without Letterman
I shouldn't fantasize about you again;
enough should be enough.
We've had our brief time for this year
or maybe these years
so, my mind needs to find a new focus;
needs to shift into another gear.
Instead, I am betrayed
by a steadfast Love
which will not fade,
nor gracefully whither
even after decades of your intermittent presence.
Desire for you should have dissipated
into the Life that surrounds me
So that, at 2:00 am,
I would be sorry that I could not clearly recall your face,
wistful, that my memory is not quite as sharp as it once was,
I would be drowsy and dropping back into a sound sleep.
Oh, but the gods are full of folly and tricks!
Because, at 3:30 am
(having felt every passing moment)
not only can I recall the tiniest lines
edging out from your dancing eyes but,
I can feel your hands trail lightly across my stomach,
inching slowly towards our desire.
A sudden jolt
and I am at a loss to explain the fear that stabs me.
Perhaps one of us will suffer a serious illness,
or you will grow distant
or some far worse fate that
leaves me
with only my memories
and no possible future where my dreams might,
once again,
have Life.
It is this thought that causes me to sit up
and turn on the laptop
so its clicking keys can record the insanity
which threatens to consume me tonight.
I want to act my age or,
at least act rationally,
and I fear there is no way
to overcome these feelings
of lust, of longing and of love,
except to quietly live my way through them.
(Sigh)
It would be alright,
I suppose,
if I thought you were having a similar experience.
But, Life has brought you complex preoccupations;
big ticket items like elder care, retirement,
and an abundance of middle-aged women.
Besides, you are logical and rational;
you will simply accept this most recent separation
and go about your daily tasks;
making your fun.
(I sometimes wonder
if the time we spend apart ever nips at you)
No,
you,
I am sure,
are sleeping like a log -
a fearless,
sexy,
and loudly snoring log.
If there be any mercy in slumber let it find me...
Ha!
There is no use for this obsession
nor, it seems,
remedy either;
except to hit the save button,
warm a glass of milk and
shimmy deep,
under the covers,
with hope
alone.
Commentary:
This is a tongue-in-cheek piece about how our mental constructs/emotions get in our way. And, sometimes, even when we are aware of it, we can't seem to change them. Or, at least, they take longer to change than we would like. So, we pine and fret and, when consciousness finally starts to rise, we laugh at ourselves and our predicament.
Here's hoping that whenever you are stuck in thought or deed a smile is close to your lips.
enough should be enough.
We've had our brief time for this year
or maybe these years
so, my mind needs to find a new focus;
needs to shift into another gear.
Instead, I am betrayed
by a steadfast Love
which will not fade,
nor gracefully whither
even after decades of your intermittent presence.
Desire for you should have dissipated
into the Life that surrounds me
So that, at 2:00 am,
I would be sorry that I could not clearly recall your face,
wistful, that my memory is not quite as sharp as it once was,
I would be drowsy and dropping back into a sound sleep.
Oh, but the gods are full of folly and tricks!
Because, at 3:30 am
(having felt every passing moment)
not only can I recall the tiniest lines
edging out from your dancing eyes but,
I can feel your hands trail lightly across my stomach,
inching slowly towards our desire.
A sudden jolt
and I am at a loss to explain the fear that stabs me.
Perhaps one of us will suffer a serious illness,
or you will grow distant
or some far worse fate that
leaves me
with only my memories
and no possible future where my dreams might,
once again,
have Life.
It is this thought that causes me to sit up
and turn on the laptop
so its clicking keys can record the insanity
which threatens to consume me tonight.
I want to act my age or,
at least act rationally,
and I fear there is no way
to overcome these feelings
of lust, of longing and of love,
except to quietly live my way through them.
(Sigh)
It would be alright,
I suppose,
if I thought you were having a similar experience.
But, Life has brought you complex preoccupations;
big ticket items like elder care, retirement,
and an abundance of middle-aged women.
Besides, you are logical and rational;
you will simply accept this most recent separation
and go about your daily tasks;
making your fun.
(I sometimes wonder
if the time we spend apart ever nips at you)
No,
you,
I am sure,
are sleeping like a log -
a fearless,
sexy,
and loudly snoring log.
If there be any mercy in slumber let it find me...
Ha!
There is no use for this obsession
nor, it seems,
remedy either;
except to hit the save button,
warm a glass of milk and
shimmy deep,
under the covers,
with hope
alone.
Commentary:
This is a tongue-in-cheek piece about how our mental constructs/emotions get in our way. And, sometimes, even when we are aware of it, we can't seem to change them. Or, at least, they take longer to change than we would like. So, we pine and fret and, when consciousness finally starts to rise, we laugh at ourselves and our predicament.
Here's hoping that whenever you are stuck in thought or deed a smile is close to your lips.
Friday, June 13, 2008
A Love Note to My Father
Last month, as Mother's Day began to draw near, I found myself focusing on fathers. The father of my youth began to play in my mind and hasn't yet let go.
My Dad, who Loved me (and my brother) with a passion far beyond his passion for anyone or anything else, was a conflicted and angry man. Some people manage Life's hardships and knocks with grace and patience. My Dad wasn't one of those. He was quick witted, intelligent and (I have come to believe) abused by his mother. (Those of you who have been hanging out with me for a while know that he was a son-of-a-b_tch to my Mom.)
Dad ran away when he was 13 and sailed U.S. merchant ships around the world several times. I can still remember his outrageous stories of serving as a first cook. The battles and triumphs of men, on those ships, which were not designed for combat (though they served during WWII), but whose sailors were away from home and from tenderness for long stretches of time, were my fairy tales. I think those stories were the source of my wanderlust; they were the stories of the first man I ever Loved, Daddy, and of my Godfather. My Godfather Sammy was one of those sailors too, tall and handsome, he was the second man I fell in Love with - I think I was 5, at the time.
There was something about the way Sammy walked and talked, the way his eyes shone when he lifted me into the air on those rare visits to our home. Godfather Sammy stayed in the Merchant Marines for about 20 years after daddy came home to raise a family. It was my father's supreme sacrifice to give up the sea (after a 20 year love affair with her) and he never once said that he regretted it.
These two men were best of friends and, when Sammy was there, our home was full of energy, back slaps, scotch, laughter and often intense political discussion. I would sit and listen until the talk became so bawdy that daddy would tell me to go outside or upstairs to my room to read. I always snuck quietly down one or two of those steps, where I would sit, hidden by the living room ceiling and listen to those two bass voices share what men who Love each other share - the truth, the past and hope for the future.
I learned on those steps that my father was so much more than the man who worked, drove me to school, got drunk on the weekends and constantly argued with my mother. He was even more than the man who Loved me first and best, more than the postal supervisor role he played 5 nights a week; my father was his unique self when Godfather Sammy blew into town.
As an adult, looking back, I realize that the Life my father lived for the 17 years I lived with him was not the one he had dreamed. I know he was happy to be a Dad to my brother and I and that he would have walked through hell with and for us. But, I am often reminded that he left the Life he Loved for us. And I think that was the source of his anger, at my Mom anyway. They had agreed not to have children and she went ahead and "got pregnant". Yeah, I know, hard to do by yourself. But, she felt he blamed her.
For Daddy, it was the end of Life as he knew it and that was hard. It was equally as hard when Mom decided she was tired of being his excuse for all things bad and left (go Mom!). And, as is often the case in break-ups, he found his freedom and Love of Life again.
He met a woman that was to be his companion until his death and they shared everything. He began to travel again and helped her raise her daughter. He got to be a father and be free, simultaneously. Sweet.
So, it's Father's Day and many of you Dads (Eric, Paul, Michael, Bruce, Jarrod, and all the rest of you Dads - you know who you are) will be honored on Sunday. We will thank you for your Love, patience, hard work and solid shoulder. We will honor those Daddies who have passed on, laughing as we remember the days they shared with us and shedding a tear or two as well.
Long ago, I was a Daddy's girl and I suspect I still am.
Happy Father's Day, one and all.
My Dad, who Loved me (and my brother) with a passion far beyond his passion for anyone or anything else, was a conflicted and angry man. Some people manage Life's hardships and knocks with grace and patience. My Dad wasn't one of those. He was quick witted, intelligent and (I have come to believe) abused by his mother. (Those of you who have been hanging out with me for a while know that he was a son-of-a-b_tch to my Mom.)
Dad ran away when he was 13 and sailed U.S. merchant ships around the world several times. I can still remember his outrageous stories of serving as a first cook. The battles and triumphs of men, on those ships, which were not designed for combat (though they served during WWII), but whose sailors were away from home and from tenderness for long stretches of time, were my fairy tales. I think those stories were the source of my wanderlust; they were the stories of the first man I ever Loved, Daddy, and of my Godfather. My Godfather Sammy was one of those sailors too, tall and handsome, he was the second man I fell in Love with - I think I was 5, at the time.
There was something about the way Sammy walked and talked, the way his eyes shone when he lifted me into the air on those rare visits to our home. Godfather Sammy stayed in the Merchant Marines for about 20 years after daddy came home to raise a family. It was my father's supreme sacrifice to give up the sea (after a 20 year love affair with her) and he never once said that he regretted it.
These two men were best of friends and, when Sammy was there, our home was full of energy, back slaps, scotch, laughter and often intense political discussion. I would sit and listen until the talk became so bawdy that daddy would tell me to go outside or upstairs to my room to read. I always snuck quietly down one or two of those steps, where I would sit, hidden by the living room ceiling and listen to those two bass voices share what men who Love each other share - the truth, the past and hope for the future.
I learned on those steps that my father was so much more than the man who worked, drove me to school, got drunk on the weekends and constantly argued with my mother. He was even more than the man who Loved me first and best, more than the postal supervisor role he played 5 nights a week; my father was his unique self when Godfather Sammy blew into town.
As an adult, looking back, I realize that the Life my father lived for the 17 years I lived with him was not the one he had dreamed. I know he was happy to be a Dad to my brother and I and that he would have walked through hell with and for us. But, I am often reminded that he left the Life he Loved for us. And I think that was the source of his anger, at my Mom anyway. They had agreed not to have children and she went ahead and "got pregnant". Yeah, I know, hard to do by yourself. But, she felt he blamed her.
For Daddy, it was the end of Life as he knew it and that was hard. It was equally as hard when Mom decided she was tired of being his excuse for all things bad and left (go Mom!). And, as is often the case in break-ups, he found his freedom and Love of Life again.
He met a woman that was to be his companion until his death and they shared everything. He began to travel again and helped her raise her daughter. He got to be a father and be free, simultaneously. Sweet.
So, it's Father's Day and many of you Dads (Eric, Paul, Michael, Bruce, Jarrod, and all the rest of you Dads - you know who you are) will be honored on Sunday. We will thank you for your Love, patience, hard work and solid shoulder. We will honor those Daddies who have passed on, laughing as we remember the days they shared with us and shedding a tear or two as well.
Long ago, I was a Daddy's girl and I suspect I still am.
Happy Father's Day, one and all.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Unfound
Unaffected.
the late spring heat searches
for a way into my sanctuary.
blades spinning overhead
swhoosh layers of cool and conditioned air
down,
down,
down
to play along my open back
Untethered.
laying hereUntethered.
believing in the possibility of lifelines
that connect my world to another's,
without becoming reins
Unspoken.
the fullness of my heart,
likewise, day-to-day comings and goings,
small choices remain mute,
unshared
and undisclosed;
protected information,
safeguarded,
as if government secrets
Unimagined.
break-up, separation, divorce;
what, years ago, seemed like just bumps
on a long and winding road
became a way of living.
This solitary mammalian life
may bring the means of survival but,
there are too few tender joys
and only sporadic couplings
Unknown.
The lines that make up your smile
the pulse and rhythm of your desire
the true hopes of your heart;
what reason has this poetic sojourn?
Saturday, June 07, 2008
Hillary and Obama Make History
Today, I witnessed what I hope is just one of many new firsts. Today a man, whom I believe, represents the best of human values and choices, has become the first black Democratic candidate for President of the United States.
I cannot begin to describe the power and possibility I see within this candidacy. My hope is that his candidacy is the next step in achieving the realization of this nation's promise of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness for all its citizens, regardless of gender, color or class.
I was moved by Hillary Clinton's speech today and thankful that she has finally backed the party's chosen leader.
In my heart and Spirit, I pray that Barack Obama will lead us well.
Love to you all...
I cannot begin to describe the power and possibility I see within this candidacy. My hope is that his candidacy is the next step in achieving the realization of this nation's promise of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness for all its citizens, regardless of gender, color or class.
I was moved by Hillary Clinton's speech today and thankful that she has finally backed the party's chosen leader.
In my heart and Spirit, I pray that Barack Obama will lead us well.
Love to you all...
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Friends
I've had the pleasure of finding good and true friends throughout my Life. They show up when I am in joy and in pain and share the best and the worst of those states with me. I have friends who have stuck with me since I was 14 years old and friends I have known for only a few years. Each in their way helps my heart know the meaning of grace.
I just giggled with my oldest friend across telephone wires about how much my teenager reminds me of her - the lines of her body and how she carries herself show up in my child. It's a little unnerving, especially since they only see each other once every few years. But there is my friend, winking at me from behind my daughter's eyes.
I shared a laugh this morning with another old friend of more than 20 years via this electronic highway. Chatting online we shared our thoughts, our fears, commitments to ourselves and our observations of how things change and yet remain constant in our lives. We fretted and smiled at how our early childhood stories continue to write our present and how we are learning to enjoy our lives in spite of and because of those things we have experienced, seen and been unable to forget.
But, this blog entry is really inspired by a new friend, an online buddy who regularly leaves comments and sends emails and has become a part of my world over the past few years. Today she is being courageous and leaving a relationship that has become hurtful and scary for her and her 5 children. Takes guts - monster guts.
We spoke yesterday and she is frightened of not being able to support the kids on her own, or keep him from getting too crazy over the break up. She's worried about her own health which she has struggled with for a while now.
I don't know if my words soothed, helped or made a difference in her world. That's the tricky part about new friendships, you give but it's hard to be sure if your gift was the one that was needed. I hope she got what she needed from me and I hope I can give even more.
Do you have a friend in need of you today? Or, maybe you're the one who needs a hand. Either way, reach out. Friendship is one of Life's noblest gifts. Experience your gifts to the fullest!
I just giggled with my oldest friend across telephone wires about how much my teenager reminds me of her - the lines of her body and how she carries herself show up in my child. It's a little unnerving, especially since they only see each other once every few years. But there is my friend, winking at me from behind my daughter's eyes.
I shared a laugh this morning with another old friend of more than 20 years via this electronic highway. Chatting online we shared our thoughts, our fears, commitments to ourselves and our observations of how things change and yet remain constant in our lives. We fretted and smiled at how our early childhood stories continue to write our present and how we are learning to enjoy our lives in spite of and because of those things we have experienced, seen and been unable to forget.
But, this blog entry is really inspired by a new friend, an online buddy who regularly leaves comments and sends emails and has become a part of my world over the past few years. Today she is being courageous and leaving a relationship that has become hurtful and scary for her and her 5 children. Takes guts - monster guts.
We spoke yesterday and she is frightened of not being able to support the kids on her own, or keep him from getting too crazy over the break up. She's worried about her own health which she has struggled with for a while now.
I don't know if my words soothed, helped or made a difference in her world. That's the tricky part about new friendships, you give but it's hard to be sure if your gift was the one that was needed. I hope she got what she needed from me and I hope I can give even more.
Do you have a friend in need of you today? Or, maybe you're the one who needs a hand. Either way, reach out. Friendship is one of Life's noblest gifts. Experience your gifts to the fullest!
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Goddess Love
Old as the ages
the goddess smiles
and the world turns.
She is soft and strong;
earth and fire
brown and violet.
Words flutter around her shoulders;
she loves their velvet feel on her bare skin
as they fall,
with neither sound
nor substance,
to her feet.
Words paint pictures
that deeds prove or disprove;
that time exposes as lie or truth.
She enjoys the tender feel of his words
but knows the greater value
of her trust.
The goddess smiles
the world turns
"Show me"
she whispers,
"that Love is a verb".
the goddess smiles
and the world turns.
She is soft and strong;
earth and fire
brown and violet.
Words flutter around her shoulders;
she loves their velvet feel on her bare skin
as they fall,
with neither sound
nor substance,
to her feet.
Words paint pictures
that deeds prove or disprove;
that time exposes as lie or truth.
She enjoys the tender feel of his words
but knows the greater value
of her trust.
The goddess smiles
the world turns
"Show me"
she whispers,
"that Love is a verb".
Monday, May 19, 2008
Personals
a kernel
the idea
a nudge
a mild and very pleasing current
across my frontal lobes
stirring impulse
the idea
of you
as poetry
Commentary:
A few days ago I came across a personal ad (a random wandering) with an interesting poetic request. In lovely form the gentleman asked to correspond via poetry. Here is what I sent. I share it because it is the first time I have written on demand and unmotivated by a need to express a strong feeling. I like the way it turned out. Honestly, what do you think?
Commentary:
A few days ago I came across a personal ad (a random wandering) with an interesting poetic request. In lovely form the gentleman asked to correspond via poetry. Here is what I sent. I share it because it is the first time I have written on demand and unmotivated by a need to express a strong feeling. I like the way it turned out. Honestly, what do you think?
Friday, May 16, 2008
Another Year Closes, A New Year Begins
While most people celebrate year end in December, there are lots of old and new year goings on in my family around this time. It's the teenager's birthday and the end of the school year, which are major events for me. This year it is also the end of middle school and the doorway to high school.
This week, the teen was off for 3 days on a school field trip, so I've had some much needed alone time. Ahhhh...sweet to think only of myself for a change. I read a good bit and hung out with friends both nights. Other than that, I did nothing productive; I didn't even feel the requisite guilt regarding my slovenly ways. I had planned to get in a little extra cleaning, wash my hair and exercise like a mad woman. Instead, I reveled in walking around half naked (with a glass of wine in my hand) and slept stretched out across my king sized bed (in fact, last night I fell asleep on one side of it and woke up on the other!) I rarely get to do that since I am usually joined by a bed usurper around 2:00 or 3:00 am. Bad dreams, middle of the night toilet visits, any excuse will do.
She's back but, she's exhausted, so maybe I'll get the mattress to myself (and avoid the backhands to the head and karate kicks to the thighs) for one more night.
I know I'll miss all that in four years when I am likely to be sleeping on my own and the rhythm is changed permanently. The whole empty nest thing. But that is a future state and the present has me too often cramped, hanging off the edge of a huge bed and pushing her over to "her side" (how'd she get a side anyway???). Well that's what I get for not having a man around.
Tomorrow's the big birthday party. We're heading to the university pool and celebrating with a friend of hers who also has an end-of-May birthday. They always have competing parties so this year, in the spirit of friendship and inclusion, the girls decided to have one party and invite their very different circle of friends.
The birthday girls come from different neighborhoods, races, religions, economic status and popularity scales. I'm hoping this turns out as well as they both envision it (sort of like my hopes for Barack Obama).
Neither of the girls are cliquish but, I don't know if their friends are as accepting of their differences as they are. My daughter and her friend decided they liked each other in the 6th grade and have remained true to that although, their friends have never really mixed. We'll see - I'm rooting for a successful blowout full of fun, frolic and poolside joy!!!
Work will get a bit crazy because it's our busy season, with test scores coming into the schools and AYP (the federal government's answer to the issues facing public education - do more with less) to live through. No small feats here; only herculean efforts are appreciated. Well, not exactly appreciated, more like expected.
So, that's it for me. I've been working on a few other poems (I'm hoping you'll like them) and will post them some time this summer. But, it's likely that June will be too busy for regular blogs - at least not every week. I'll make sure to upload a few graduation pics and some of the 8th grade dance, next week.
Here's a pic of the big night...
Love to you all!
This week, the teen was off for 3 days on a school field trip, so I've had some much needed alone time. Ahhhh...sweet to think only of myself for a change. I read a good bit and hung out with friends both nights. Other than that, I did nothing productive; I didn't even feel the requisite guilt regarding my slovenly ways. I had planned to get in a little extra cleaning, wash my hair and exercise like a mad woman. Instead, I reveled in walking around half naked (with a glass of wine in my hand) and slept stretched out across my king sized bed (in fact, last night I fell asleep on one side of it and woke up on the other!) I rarely get to do that since I am usually joined by a bed usurper around 2:00 or 3:00 am. Bad dreams, middle of the night toilet visits, any excuse will do.
She's back but, she's exhausted, so maybe I'll get the mattress to myself (and avoid the backhands to the head and karate kicks to the thighs) for one more night.
I know I'll miss all that in four years when I am likely to be sleeping on my own and the rhythm is changed permanently. The whole empty nest thing. But that is a future state and the present has me too often cramped, hanging off the edge of a huge bed and pushing her over to "her side" (how'd she get a side anyway???). Well that's what I get for not having a man around.
Tomorrow's the big birthday party. We're heading to the university pool and celebrating with a friend of hers who also has an end-of-May birthday. They always have competing parties so this year, in the spirit of friendship and inclusion, the girls decided to have one party and invite their very different circle of friends.
The birthday girls come from different neighborhoods, races, religions, economic status and popularity scales. I'm hoping this turns out as well as they both envision it (sort of like my hopes for Barack Obama).
Neither of the girls are cliquish but, I don't know if their friends are as accepting of their differences as they are. My daughter and her friend decided they liked each other in the 6th grade and have remained true to that although, their friends have never really mixed. We'll see - I'm rooting for a successful blowout full of fun, frolic and poolside joy!!!
Work will get a bit crazy because it's our busy season, with test scores coming into the schools and AYP (the federal government's answer to the issues facing public education - do more with less) to live through. No small feats here; only herculean efforts are appreciated. Well, not exactly appreciated, more like expected.
So, that's it for me. I've been working on a few other poems (I'm hoping you'll like them) and will post them some time this summer. But, it's likely that June will be too busy for regular blogs - at least not every week. I'll make sure to upload a few graduation pics and some of the 8th grade dance, next week.
Here's a pic of the big night...
Love to you all!
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