Monday Haiku

I have had a long day after a night of little sleep. So I am just going to share this photo from when I woke up this morning, along with my ode to Mondays. Perhaps you can relate?

Monday Haiku

Monday, how you suck!

We just try to survive you.

Is it Friday yet?

At least the sunrise made Monday look promising for a whole minute

The Growth Proposition

Do the best you can until you know better. Then, when you know better, do better.” ~Maya Angelou

This saying by Maya Angelou is what I have to remind myself every day. It’s not right to beat myself up over mistakes I made in my past because I was doing the best I could with the knowledge and self-awareness I had at that point. Current me wishes I had been capable of making better choices for myself back then because if I had grown more back then, I wouldn’t be working so hard now. I would have had a head start. But that is not how personal growth works. Personal growth begins with awareness. Sometimes we don’t recognize that we need help right away. Sometimes we aren’t even aware that we’ve been abused or that we have any personal deficiency at all (I’m looking at you, narcissists).

The good news is that I know better now and I am doing better. Yes. I still overreact and get anxious. Yes. I constantly think I am I am screwing up and then mentally beat myself up over it. Yes. I am still often incapable of seeing what anyone would see in me and I have a difficult time trusting people. But there are things I now understand about my past that have helped me to do better in my present. I was able to break cycles from my childhood and do better for my sons. I have learned to be braver. I am working at standing up for myself, asking for what I want, and even (gasp) inconveniencing someone else if what I have asked for has not been delivered correctly. I’m getting better at catching myself before my fears and anxiety spiral out of control and lead me to dark places. It’s just not going as fast as I would like, but I understand now that this is a process. And that thought is also proof that I am doing better.

I remind myself daily that I might not be as far along as I would like, but awareness is a better place than many people get to. You can’t have personal growth without it, and I like to think that I am a growth proposition. Put your money on me, people. I can do this.

Spontaneous Notes On A Free Country

Once upon a time in my life, I penned poetry. It wasn’t necessarily great poetry, but it was a way to work out my thoughts without journaling them or writing them to a friend in a letter (back when people wrote letters). I found this poem today while looking for something else, and it struck me how nearly 30 years later most of it still rings true. This was written on the day the officers were acquitted in the Rodney King trial, April 29, 1992. I was 24.

Not sure where this little meme guy came from, but in our family this is what we text when we are disappointed about something

Spontaneous Notes on a “Free Country”

A black man is beaten senseless
abused beyond reasonable force by
white law officers

A female with an unwanted pregnancy must get 
a man's permission to make choices about
her own body

A homosexual couple must hide their 
love to avoid discrimination
and hatred

The rich get richer
The poor get poorer
The cost of living goes up
No doesn't really mean no
Medical costs are outrageous

I could go on and on eternally and
I'd like to send a message
but it's apparent no one is listening
in the 

Land of the free and the
Home of the dominant white male


 

The Hummingbird Parallel

Hummingbird haiku

I was sitting on the back deck today as a hummingbird blew past me on the way to our feeder. I love watching them, so I was grateful when we finally got this feeder up and less than an hour later we had a visitor. I gazed at this speedy creature, mesmerized by its grace and fluidity as its wings fluttered at 53 beats per second, and then it whizzed past me again. It was gone. I realized then what a hummingbird reminds me of. A hummingbird is basically a teenage boy. He’s invisible most of the time. You can’t find him when you are looking for him. But when you put food out, he shows up, blowing past you as if you are of no concern. He devours what you offer. And then the teenage boy, like the hummingbird with its belly full, is gone again. But don’t worry. He always needs food, and as long you provide it you will occasionally catch a glimpse of him, no matter how ephemeral it might be.

Decades Deconstructed

As a child, sitting on a wooden bench in a stained-glass Catholic church, perusing bible stories in miniature cardboard books while a priest spoke, feet unable to reach the floor, a good girl in a handmade dress, told to be seen but not heard

As a teenager, walking the locker-lined hallways in torn jeans and strange hair, avoiding eye contact to sidestep conversation, feeling unsure, awkward, and unknowable, safe in anonymity despite the enormous hoop earrings that suggested a bolder soul underneath

As a young adult, still sleeping in my childhood bed, writing graduate papers nightly and disappearing into a padded cubicle by day, flying just under the radar, laboring as if work provides life’s meaning, another spinning cog in capitalist machinery, lost in the system

As a new mother, negotiating a role I wasn’t equipped for, giving baths, wiping behinds, washing laundry, an introvert quietly sitting at playgroup, an imposter among women with better small-people skills, playing house, unpaid, unsure, selfless and without self

As a midlife puppet, enduring hormonal shifts and parent/teacher conferences, encouraging my little people, becoming braver as they do, beginning self-excavation through adventure, a glimmer of light suggests the unabashed me might yet exist underneath the rubble of other’s expectations

As a member of the over-the-hill gang, black balloons behind me, forward looking only, relishing every minute and rolling in each emotion, denying those who would bury me again, living fully knowing others have already gone, working at not accepting less for myself, acknowledging my inherent self-worth at last, a phoenix

 

More Alike, My Friends

fullsizerender

With all the ruckus that is going on in our country right now, with all the division and pettiness and anger and bitterness and resentment and finger-pointing and general nastiness floating around on social media, I thought I would just leave this here today as a reminder of what the truth is.

HUMAN FAMILY by Maya Angelou

I note the obvious differences
in the human family.
Some of us are serious,
some thrive on comedy.

Some declare their lives are lived
as true profundity,
and others claim they really live
the real reality.

The variety of our skin tones
can confuse, bemuse, delight,
brown and pink and beige and purple,
tan and blue and white.

I’ve sailed upon the seven seas
and stopped in every land,
I’ve seen the wonders of the world
not yet one common man.

I know ten thousand women
called Jane and Mary Jane,
but I’ve not seen any two
who really were the same.

Mirror twins are different
although their features jibe,
and lovers think quite different thoughts
while lying side by side.

We love and lose in China,
we weep on England’s moors,
and laugh and moan in Guinea,
and thrive on Spanish shores.

We seek success in Finland,
are born and die in Maine.
In minor ways we differ,
in major we’re the same.

I note the obvious differences
between each sort and type,
but we are more alike, my friends,
than we are unalike.

We are more alike, my friends,
than we are unalike.

We are more alike, my friends,
than we are unalike.

Source: http://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/human-family-by-maya-angelou