My Sister and I

A few seconds left

of number nine

waiting for now…

if it comes.

Yes, it’s here

I rush out of there

to my place,

where I can be alone-

but no,

there’s still that raincloud

above me whenever I’m there,

when the sun sets

and the moon glows

that dragon is under me.

When sunlight fills my window

she is over me;

When I am anywhere,

she’s there.

Bur if she wasn’t…

I wouldn’t.

If she disappeared in the moonlight

I’d be the cloud,

lifting her up

and although we’d be gone…

we’d be together, forever.


September, 2004
I wrote this poem in seventh grade amd recently found it in a long-lost journal.

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Some Short Narratives

Lately, instead of writing consistent poems, I’ve done small drawings of people accompanied by their thoughts/a quick story and a saying on their shirt. I’ll share some here (although I’m not ready to share any of my drawings!  I’m no artist, trust me). The saying is the second phrase of each “poem”:

I.

Our “real” selves

don’t need to be thought of

or complicated,

embellished or held.

Do not attach yourself

to any one thing –

you will find me in the space between…

The letting go is where true strength lies.

II.

With blood

running through you

do not judge a thing–

the sky will remain blue for you

don’t you see?

Look all in the eyes,

tilt your head back,

let it go–

society is a disguise,

not a truth,

don’t you know?

Simply Be.

September 21-23, 2015

The Story

It’s what we write every day and, whether we are fully aware of it or not, it’s the grandest story of all:

The Story of My Life.

From the news and social media, to conversations at work and on the street, stories make up the “stuff” of our lives.  I truly believe that we are more than all of this “stuff.”  When you take it all away, there is only the simplicity of life churning away through our veins and souls, connecting us all to the universe.

And yet we still live here, on Earth.  We are always in the midst of other people and countless narratives.  We can’t just run from them.   The world will keep turning.  Even if we close off all our senses, the stories that make up society aren’t going to go away.  Yes, we can shape our personal narrative by stating: “My life is more important than my life story.” And you’d be right!  I am solidly in that camp.  But we are still responsible for our stories.

What do you tell yourself, about yourself, every day?  How do you view your relationship with others, with yourself?  Where does your self confidence fall based on these guidelines?

If I have a problem, I like to think about it in broad terms, considering the evidence of one truth versus another.  By doing so, however, I put a lot of pressure on myself (and my brain) to get it right.  As if I have all the answers!  It’s insane, and yet this pressure follows me day to day, allowing myself to identity with both intelligence and inability.  So when I ask myself the question, “Am I capable of changing how I tell my life story?” I doubt myself.

Do you have any doubts about yourself, about your abilities– about your story?

A wise friend of mine told me today that fresh starts are precious: not everyone can have them, and you can do whatever you want with them.

They symbolize ultimate freedom.

Today, as I find myself in the beginnings of another “fresh start,” I’m taking a stand.  I want to claim responsibility for telling my life story–  to the world, to others, and (most importantly) to myself.

In more ways than not, I am whatever I want to be.  I am whatever I believe myself to be.  There’s no pressure to know everything or for everything to be perfect.   But I’m the main character in this play, as well as the audience.  All I can do is balance the tragedy with the comedy and know that, in the end, my “life” under my “life situation,” my “life story,” will always be there.

***

So, hey you!  You’re a person with a story.  Go out there and write a good one.

My Mind

At times,

I feel nervous–

nervous that it

is stronger than me.

*

It can make any situation into a problem,

labeling itself a “worry wart”

(and who would ever want to be a wart?)

this is my fear:

*

It will change my relationships

it will tarnish my career

it will make all the beauty I’ve felt inside of me

feel meaningless.

*

It is crazy to think I’m not alone.

*

The truth is that beauty is eternal,

and my mind

will never be stronger than my presence,

patient like a willow

it will flow in the breeze,

follow me step by worry torn step

relaxing my insides,

releasing the mountain of love

that lives inside my chest–

it lives in all of us.

*

Sometimes,

I read quotes;

maybe they will make me feel “better”

maybe they will “fix” my mind–

I know only I can.

*

At all times,

I know there is timelessness,

the truth,

our only savior,

waiting for my heart to forgive my head,

catch up with my soul,

and allow myself

to lay,

still.

*

September 20, 2015

Bein vulnerable on this Sunday.  Peace and love. ❤ 

City Living

We live here,

apartment three

floor four–

it’s confusing,

I know.

Burgundy molding

pinches the outside of my window,

a gentle beauty

I did not expect to find on my side

of New York City.

The big picture is always on my mind;

and yet I so rarely see it.

I can stand across the street

and trace the molding with my finger,

flowers and leaves winding down,

perfectly framing a place

that makes home feel a little bit closer.

My head hurts, sometimes.

Despite the pretty picture

I can still hear the questions

layered in the window pane,

stories corned in by concrete slabs

and the society

we close our doors and try to hide from

We cannot lock ourselves away forever.

My eyes are beginning to open,

learning what it means to not just think

holistically

but to be whole;

not just to trace the molding

but to hold the painting,

turn the knob,

open the door.

September 18, 2015

Finding Warmth

Time

may very well

not be

what we think it is–

the psychological nonsense

of “yesterday”

versus “tomorrow”

leaves my skin cold,

begging for the road to lead me

somewhere,

anywhere

where life is precious,

held,

loved

where not all questions

must come with an answer

where “Now”

is rapped up safe in a blanket,

bathed in the sweet warmth

of Being.

September 6, 2015

It’s been a busy weekend…

Happy Labor Day!

 

In honor of someone I love, I shared this story on Instagram today.  I wanted to share it here, too.

 

Last night someone asked me why we, humans, exist. I responded with what I believe: to observe without judgement, and to love. And yet, just moments before, I spent time explaining that there are always limits to what we can know for sure, that there are no “absolute truths.” I now realize that this is still true; therefore, instead of knowing our purpose, or even simply believing in it, we must create it. Chanel your Being, your connection to others, into a life of meaning and peace. Even if I don’t “know” that this is a truth, I can know that I – that we together- created it. We can all put our love into practice.

 

September 6, 2015