An Attempt at a Poem

I am writing it off the top of my head... the only line I know is the last one.

The money gets sorted,
the kids do too,
pieces to me,
pieces to you.

A legal decree that says good-bye,
signed and initialed on the bold-faced line.

The laughter faded long ago,
the tears still crawling,
heaviness and sadness,
in the bags you're hauling.

What remains you ask,
the crowd silent and listening,
answers on the horizon,
and solitarily glistening.

Love remains...
Love remains...
Love remains...

Flat Lined

I am standing at the edge of the water, the waves breaking at my ankles, coming from the distance, heavier and faster. I stand, the wind wrestling with my hair, my hands in my pockets, a chill crawls up then scurries back down my arms. I stand and brace myself against the wind, brace myself against the waves, and wait for the brunt of it to hit, to hit me head on, to slap me silly. I wait. I wait until the sky grows dark, then light again, and dark and light. I search around me, behind, beneath me, above me and beyond you, waiting for the wave to crash against me. My eyes stay steady on the horizon, anticipating the crash, bracing myself, waiting, tightening my fists in my pockets, tensing my shoulders, waiting without armor. I wait. I brace.

In a moment, the wind shifts. A friend holds a mirror to my image and says “Look, look at yourself! Look at what you are doing to yourself. You are lost. You are better than this. You are better than this. Your reflection is distorted! You are reflecting an image of his interpretation. You are more than this.” She leaves, not knowing what she has done for me. When I look back toward the horizon, the ensuing wave, the ensuing trauma is gone. The water moves swiftly toward my ankle and then stops. Stops. Placid. Clear. Uninterrupted tranquility. It has flat lined.

I stand on the edge of the water and wait for the waves, and wait for the heavy, fast waves. I wait for the wind to move through my hair. I take my hands from my pockets to feel the air. It is placid, clear, unmoving. Silence strips me of doubts now. Voices sing to me in harmony – euphoric symphonies, a symbol tickles in the background and it is over. It has flatlined.

Hate, love, sadness, pity, and fear all rolling into apathy. Flat lining into nothing.

In the distance I see the town where I was born. It’s going to be a long walk home. I turn and take another step forward.

Thank you, Aim.

Hand in Hand with Hypocrisy

"Be the change you wish to see in the world..." Gandhi said this and as I perused through a bookstore in downtown Annapolis last night with a great friend of mine, this quote slapped me across the face and said, "remember me!" Be the change you wish to see in the world...

I am thinking of it on a real simple level, and obviously when I begin any kind of thought process, my children are always at the forefront. Their image is suctioned to my forehead, protruding outward on a flat screen before my eyes so that every move I make is noticed by them. So, in my little world, I wish to teach my children. I realize that if I want Tony to stop calling me poopy head, and stupid, I should probably temper my habit of swearing under my breath. If I want the children to pick up their toys after play time is over, I should really straighten the mounds of paper, folders and envelopes scattered on top and around my desk. Instead of preaching to them as a hypocrite for these things (and believe me, there are plenty more!), I should change my ways first.

The same concept applies at work. I am fortunate in that I get to work from home on most days. I am safe behind the computer, sending only words to my coworkers via email. It would be rather easy to demand my requirements, and sign off. Yet, I enjoy being thanked, I enjoy a little humor and a personal touch, even if I cannot envision the face behind the words. Be the change you wish to see in the world... it's easy. I sign off my emails with a thank-you; when I screw up (which is very rare), I fess up, and usually it is with a sense of humor. That's how I would want people to be toward me. It's real easy to get bogged down in the details and drama of work - to constantly feel overwhelmed. But, think about it, it's work. It is work that has been there before you, and will be there tomorrow. At five o'clock, I clear my mind (if not my desk) and I focus on my family.

What about with strangers? You don't want to be treated rudely, so smile.

On a universal level, I have plans. Big plans. I can't do it alone though. But I can change myself, I can pull people in and maybe, just maybe, I won't be a hypocrite when I say, "they should do this... they should do that..." I am going to try and let go of hypocrisy's hand, and walk alone in this great big world. Anyone care to join me?

Spring Has Sprung!

Jake, a great friend and I took the kids to see the Cherry Blossoms in D.C. yesterday. Stepping out from the darkness of the Metro tunnel and onto the sidewalk of the Capital Mall, I was hit with the smell of Spring - clean, fresh, crisp. The swarms and swarms of people were ignored because the blue sky and bright clouds were welcoming kite flyers - Dora, Diego, Lightning McQueen, butterflies and lady bugs adorned the skies. When we walked toward the Monument, the American flags were dancing, and more kites adorned the sky. I was looking up, holding the hands of my two beautiful children - ready to skip because the world seem so aware of my need for newness, and cleanliness and the need to fly like those kites - free and breezy.

Pulling into the driveway, I noticed that the Daffodils had bloomed, and the purple and white Crocuses I planted last year were beginning to sprout. Paige and Tony also discovered the Daffodils. They are now are sitting in a vase on my kitchen table. I also noticed the brown leaves from fall that, if I had a working leaf blower, would be somewhere else. Looking at the mess of my front yard, I am excited and eager to begin making it look like a home again - a welcoming, summer site! Up until last year, my thumb was black, but after one weekend of pulling leaves, throwing down dirt and planting flowers, my thumbs started dancing, shaking off the black, and now they are just a light brown, but they're getting there and by the end of summer they'll be a pale green, I am sure of it! And the day I purchase my very own leaf blower is going to be a day I'll always remember because of all the things that I could possibly buy with any spare money I have lying around, it is what I most want. And it's going to be good, powerful and useful, and I will put shield glasses on and a hockey mask and pretend I am Chevy Chase in Christmas Vacation coming out of his garage and pulling the string on his chainsaw. My neighbors will love it!

Speaking of neighbors, I have one that has a little yappy dog that, about twice a week, comes over to the house and poops on my driveway. The other day I saw it wander over and I tried to get Gracie to bark at it. I pointed out the window, and Gracie got her nose against the glass and started sniffing it. I said, "No, outside, out the window!" and pointed. She looked around. In the meantime, the yappy dog is dropping his pants on my driveway. So I opened the window and started barking for Gracie. The dog looked at me like I was nuts. I said, "beat it!" and the dog continued. Finally, finally, Gracie saw her and barked. By that time, the dog was done. So I shook my head, and barked in Gracie's face again. She clawed me down the arm, thinking I was playing.

In any case, spring has sprung... dog poop and all. I can't blow the poop from my driveway, but I can blow that little dog across the lawn. Can't wait!

Roll the Tapes

Right now it is nearly sixty degrees outside; the winds are soft against my skin as I sip my coffee and wait for Gracie to finish her business. I keep glancing at the bright pink sky, airbrushed today - the backdrop of a huge poplar tree standing tall above all the surrounding trees. I tried to take a picture but alas, the batteries in my camera are dead. I am sitting here thinking about my day ahead. The morning routine wears me out by 9am - the kids are reluctant to go to school in the mornings, they'd rather spend their day with mommy, playing with all their toys and pretending to be the "mommy and daddy" all day. Ironically, they get along their best when they're in those roles.

As I look at the sky, I feel my body relax. It's Tuesday and I am tired again. It would be nice if I could sit on this deck the entire day and listen to the children laugh as they play on their swing set or discover the various types of leaves that I shall never rake. But in five minutes, I have to guzzle the last of my coffee and head up for the showers, pleading with the sleeping gods to keep the veil over the kids' eyes for the ten minutes it takes to rinse, wash and rinse again. I've only been awake 30 minutes, and I want to close my eyes for another eight hours. Tired.

In come the geese. I just spent the last two minutes watching nearly a hundred geese in various V formations fly over my head, cackling, crowing, tweeting (whatever it is they do) as they head for their destination. As if the brilliant pink sky wasn't enough! I can just imagine God saying, "Okay, are the geese ready? Now wait, she's looking up, okay, let the geese go. And... action!" Then suddenly, they are at the forefront, the poplar still stands tall and the pink illuminates their fluttering wings - their cackles an alarm clock that wakes me up. My thoughts are no longer on the chores I'll face this magnificent Tuesday morning and afternoon - they're on absolutely nothing. The sky is gorgeous, the temperature is perfect, my coffee tastes great, the birds are singing and Gracie has finished her job.

In comes the gratitude. And... action! Thank You.

The View from the Inside

Standing in the center of my life, I begin turning, arms outspread, head held high to the sky, eyes closed with a smile on my face. The warmth I feel on my skin soothes me today, the cluster of disillusionment compartmentalized in its own slice of pie, gray and vast, but there is a distinct end to it, and I see it. All the other pieces of the pie, although slightly smaller are hues of pink and yellow and blue - pastels and soft, soft, soft.

My hair reflecting sunlight, my smile radiating happiness, my back turned today on the darkness. I hold my breath and close my eyes, and I feel Hope's arms embracing me. My children stand beside me, their hands in my own now, and we spin around, dancing, smiling, happy. The darkness is illuminated by all the good beside it, touching its edges, but nowhere near where we've placed our feet, and it is manageable, and it is temporary and it is completely separate from who we are, and who we want to be. It exists as a mere chore to trudge through, nothing more, nothing less. But the rest of the circle - our life! My life! Unending slices steadily streaming forward from the center, un-ending and swirling into a tapestry of life filled with communal sharing and unity. Gorgeous. This view is gorgeous.

Pork Chops and Positive People

The first bite of pizza when the hunger pangs are folding in on themselves in your stomach was always something I appreciated and recognized as a source of happiness. Or how about a sip of rich coffee after a bite of cheesecake has melted on your tongue? Delicious, satisfying and something that makes you fall back in your chair and relish.

When I was in college, my roommates and I made a list of all those things that made us sit back and relish, even if it was only a 2 second recognition. I forget many of the things, but here is what I remember:

1. Putting on a warm pair of pajamas (straight from the dryer).
2. The pain in the apple of your cheeks after a full-blown laughing fit.
3. The cashmere silence of a morning snowfall.
4. The dividing line between hard laughter and appreciative crying - that moment when it can go either way.
5. A compliment.

Those are only five things I can remember, although after we posted it on our dorm room door, we found that the girls across from us (who were kicked out for partying) had written their own comments on ecstasy. The three additions to our list of 25 were as follows:

1. The first hit of a bong.
2. Puke and rally.
3. An orgasm with someone you know.

To each his own, I guess. Our list was a hit and we ended up taking the moments of all of our dorm buddies and making a comprehensive list. (I have it somewhere and as soon as I am done writing this, I know I'll be going crazy trying to find it).

As I write this, I realize that doing things like that are essential, and I have since started writing things down - things that catch in my throat. A great passage of a book, a glance that says something essential about the character of another person, the clean, pure knowledge of knowing who you are and exactly what you want in your life... finally!

In the last few months, moments have accumulated, but more importantly the accumulation has been of positive things. I seek and I receive happiness, and it's because I have opened myself up to people, revealed my insecurities as a fact but not a factor of who I am. This positive approach to life has magnetized me! I am wonderfully surrounded by positive people. This positive approach is the secret to happiness... because by staying positive, faithful and kind, I've found a greater happiness than I have ever imagined. Positive people - they recognize the tastes on their tongues, the sounds in their ears, the sights before them and the feelings inside of them. I am happy to have them in my life because I know on the days I'm not feeling all there, they'll provide the missing piece as I have and will try to do for them.

One more thing: Pork chops are the most underrated food on any restaurant menu. Next time you see them on the menu, order them - you will not be disappointed.