Wish I could

Wish I could

Let it go
Let it take over
Let it be all I need
Let it be everything and more

Let it grow
Let it develop into more
Let it creep into the dark corners
Let it shed light on the spaces to far for light to reach

Let it be
Let it have its space
Let it fill out the space that it will
Let it make space within the crowd and hollows

Let it be real

Hope

My hope


It’s here
Just below the surface
Waiting for the thaw
The release of all this
Shallow water
From the dam inside my head
Built up anxieties
And raging currents
Mellow and not at all what you’d think
It’s not what I expected
Not what I was looking for
Now it’s crashing down on me
Rushing forward, determined
Smashing the still closed gates
Violent and unrelenting
The pounding of it suggests its power
Overwhelming and consuming
The take over, the rushing tumbling
Weight of its rage
The thrill of being pulled from the edge
Into deeper waters, dark and endless,

Our wall

Our Wall

I’m on the other side of your wall
But this wall, this side of the wall
Was built by me
I didn’t work to tear your stones down
Instead I reinforced them with mortar of my own
One stone to start
Then another
Now we are forever
On either side of this wall
Each of you and I, in shadows
The wall too high to climb,
Too thick to knock down
I wish to climb the wall, to walk the line
To look down to each side and
See no ignorance, no further stones

But here I stand moments later
Your side higher and mine
Abandoned.

Truth

My inconvenient truth


As I sat and listened
The truth came
Plain and without sound and
Took a seat right behind the
Left side of my head
There it sat and motioned towards
The exit sign

Not an escape
Truth said
Just true

I sat and let truth come
He came and sat next to me and
Delivered the news in a manner
All calm and professional
Not a note of humor
Just the truth behind the wisdom of
The voice in my head

Not wrong
Truth said
Just true

I stood and let truth slide away
Tried to walk away
The problem with truth, he admitted
It’s never anything more and yet never less
Than everything for today and this moment
Once its there its there
Its just true

My great grandfather

When I was young I was exceptionally privileged to have my great grandparents living and to be close enough to them to see them practically every weekend. My great grandfather was an exceptionally brilliant man. He suffered greatly for it in his lifetime though, much guilt and shame for him was the price of his high intelligence. He was not allowed to go to war as he was the only one who could fix all the things worth fixing back home. SO all the other men went to war and he was left to fix all the things the woman used that broke. He was horribly shamed by this and could never quite forgive himself for being who he was and being put in a position that was lesser. I know that the reason why they kept him here was so that work could get done and that he was absolutely the best man for the job. He could have been lost in the war and then the world would not have some of the things it has.

But he told me something once that has stuck with me. It reverberates in my head and fills my thoughts. I use it as motivation and it fuels my drive.

I can't remember when he said it or where... it was most likely in his garden and I was probably not more than ten, it was after he gave me my first medical textbook but before I had firmly accepted medicine or research as a calling.

He said it in a way that was more wise and honest than I have ever been told another thing. He was quiet and soft and commanding. He knew the truth behind what he was about to say and he was going to give me the best gift he could by saying the words.

The weight of the sentence was not lost on him and he was going to save me from myself right then and there. He was going to give to me what someone had not given to him. He was going to make it ok for me to be just like him.... make it ok to be smart and to be different. Somehow these words were going to make everything what it should have been, and I knew it. I was quiet and waited so patiently for what seemed like forever.

"you owe the world for what it has given you, rarely do people have the chance to do something great beyond what they will ever know and you will never fully understand it but you owe it to the world to do it."

Believe me these words have saved me a million times over. They save me from feeling as left out of the loop as I probably am, they let me off the hook when I feel as though people are too difficult to deal with because of their lack of understanding, they pick me up off the floor when i feel as though I can't give anymore, they fuel my drive and fan the fire under me when I am caught in a rut like I am now. Mostly, they smooth over the technicalities of writing out all the pieces that my brain flips over so quickly and refuses to slow down for so that i can type out the words. They give me patience and resilience.

I miss him nearly on a daily basis. Perhaps if he was here I could have more quietness than I presently do. Perhaps I wouldn't have so many questions to ask about how to make it go faster or to slow myself down. I would maybe not feel so alone some days, there would still be days but he'd be there for me. They'd pass quicker and I'd be better than I am because of it. I'd feel less of a need to tell everyone about and mark each little success because he would be patient and only want to know when it was all done and I would be able to let go of this urgency and sense of doom that somehow it won't get done.

Maybe too I could tell him that he owed something to the world and he had done it. Not only had he done what he owed to the world but he had allowed me to do what I needed to too. I am an agnostic... there is not enough proof for me either way... but if he could hear me or I could see him once again.... "thank you" would never be enough.

from the past (part 1)

Blog entry
July 29, 2008


In my head there are two discreet girls running around, screaming and advertising their opposing view points, banshees with PMS claiming they are the soul's right being. The first is a little obsessed with independence and freedom, and her counterpart is equally concerned with finding someone to lie next to at night.

They fight and twist over issues in my head and beat my brain at every decision point.

The first girl, ragged and raw with a fierceness that surprises me, flicks her hand up in exasperation at my need to have confirmation and involvement and impatiently waves a map of all the possibilities in my face. Taunting and mocking me with her high pitched imitation of my pleas for finding a soul mate and having true love. She criticizes me for looking back and missing the feel of a man next to me at night. She is belligerent that none of them have ever been enough to make the sacrifice of our freedom worth it. She points out their flaws and the mistakes that were made and suggests, slyly and with complete distain for my own ability to choose a good man, how we should never fall for their bullshit again. She wants to jump from man to man, not caring how we leave them and only caring that the need is satisfied for the moment. She is the liberation and the freedom that makes the sex so great. And she is right. I don't need a man to validate me, I don't need to be on someone's arm to look good and I don't need to censor my desires and to fit into someone else's life.

But then the other girl... littler and somewhat quieter, suddenly clears her throat and gently asks, "what the fuck are you doing?" As little as she might be, she is potent. Ever present. You can't ignore her, you can't convince her otherwise and she makes you stop to think. You want to be her, believe her and know that what she wants for you will one day be true. if you could know that, her way would probably be easier on the soul but you can't know and some other part of you thinks that her slight smile looks more sly than sure. She reminds me of the feeling of leaning against someone, someone bigger and broader and someone warm and with arms that hold me tight. She whispers memories of nights that took the nightmares away and kisses that brought dreams from sweeter places. She nudges me and I glance up and see his face, his eyes and that jaw, that mouth that says perfect things and the body that proves they are true. Those shoulders that could bear the weight of both of our worlds and those arms that could withstand all the forces that would pull me away. She looks at me and I wonder how wise she can possibly be. Her answers have no argument just faith. And then I argue with her. He never lasts long and those perfect words come with conditions. And he will force me to do things in my life that I do not want to do and would never choose for myself. He will make me compromise and bend, he will change me and then how will i know that he loved me, truly loved the real me, because i will be changed by his presence. He will love me because he was there and maybe because i thought i could love him. I point out, almost ticking the points off on my fingers for emphasis, children, work, freedom, sacrifice, greater worth, independence.... and yet she is steadfast and undeterred. She looks at me like she knows better, that someday I will see.

I hope/pray/wish that she is right. I know the other is right at the same time and yet, I can't not hope that the other counts for more and that all my arguments appear feeble in the wake of something so great.

But I don't believe her. Not tonight. Not for a long time now. Maybe I have never really believed her, or trying again wouldn't be so hard.

How can I let the second girl be right if I won't risk her being wrong?

The Owl

The owl

Poised, ready. Take flight my friends. The vast awaits.

The narrow gap between here and now, the moment of action and its beginning. That second that hovers, that lingers longer than the last. The question of time, the delay of a moment, that slight of hand, all in an action awaiting.

The swoop.

The movement from stillness. That suddenness of time restarting- beginning to move again. The moments gathering, rushing by in speed and ability. Alive with movement, and moving with intent. Filling each second to the brim with motion.

The capture. The blood red. The feed.

Not what matters, nor what is important here. Sit and wait with me.

Again.

Take it back... A poem about sucess

A poem about Success: Take it back.

Give me it back
The struggle, the fight
For there is more lost in success
Than is realized or gained

For now I am
Just “am”
Not will be, not can be,
But just “am”

No more tomorrows
No more best-ing, or bettering
Just being, to keep being
No ring to that.

No more tastes of it,
Just mouthfuls
No more wanting it
Just having it
No more yearning for it
But knowing it
No more.

Take it back, or give it back,
The drive, the need
I can’t be, just be
There must be more than to just be

Pain

Pain

Keep me here.
In this moment there is little else
There is only the question of pain
Thick and tangible

Overtaken with the insanity of hope
For another outcome
The cravings are delicious
Their pain a reward

Only through this do I have you
One small moment each craving, burning
In this moment there is little else
But you for me

I’d trade it all
But not for the moment of joy you’d expect
But for one opportunity to full faced and breast to breast
Show you my pain, my agony and my hurt

And in that moment,
A watcher’s delight
To see it mirrored on your face
That would delight my heart.

As resilient as I am

As resilient as I am…

As resilient as I am there is a moment I don’t need to be
That moment for me is you.

My family, 3 dads, 9 sisters
For them, I am glad I am resilient.

My once failing health, multiple mis-diagnosis and a system that failed,
This required my resilience.

Rejection from my dreams, and resistance to my persistence
This demanded my resilience.

Future applications and challenges are easier to bear
Knowing I am practiced in resilience.

But you.

You require none of my ability to come back from tradgety
You do not require that I self repair.

You don’t force the resilience in me.
You don’t tease its edges or compare.

I don’t need to look long to see the silver in you
All the silver I’ve ever seen is right in front of me in you.

Resilience: Seeing the silver in it

Today I realized something i knew before, but this time deeper, more real somehow. The core of my soul, the thing that makes me, me, is thriving now, rapidly gaining speed and taking hold. It came with a sense of honesty and understanding, almost peaceful to know. Today I realized that above all else, I am resilient.

The word itself may not be astounding, or poetic, it does not inspire immediate envy or joy but it gives a sense of presence, a quality of time. It, in itself, is enduring, patient, willing and proud. Resilience is not in a moment, a minute or a year, it is a lifetime, an existence, it is endurance. Yet there is no pain, no bindings, no confines. It is a freedom from those things; it lasts a lifetime and a moment just the same.

Call it what you will, but today the right words came from the mouth of woman who had just lost her husband, she said, "You remind me of my late husband, he always saw the silver in it, it was wonderful to know him"

My life has been anything but calm, my personality the same, yet at the close of each day I am still whole, there is no harm done. It all has worked to put me here, and here's a good place to be. The "here" of course is transitory and changes to match each closing of each day, but such is the nature of being resilient.

It is not as much a “it could be worse” or a “there’s always tomorrow” sentiment: those, in truth, are not resilience, they are the optimistic hopes of a pessimist trying to block a moment from dragging them down. They are band-aids for an event, a word or deed, that did them wrong. They acknowledge the awfulness of the situation and pacify the hurt.

Seeing the silver in something doesn’t work that way. There is no judgment on the awfulness of the event or a rating of the hurt, there is simply what is left after the fact and what is left cannot be compared to that which bred it. The events that led up to it become a catalyst for a reaction that changes the reagants forever, there is no going back, nor is there desire to. Yet the change is never for the worse, not just in viewpoint, but in actuality. The result is never worse than before, or to the detriment of the act itself, it is shiny, bright with a silver lining. Always.

The truly resilient are those who have embodied the event, the act, not for it but for its effects. They know that life will change them and do not avoid its experience. They are blind to negativity but realistic of its purpose. They seem to learn from mistake where most would regret them. Perhaps their disposition has a drawback in that they are not good at the prevention aspect of life, or lack foresight to stop the events and tragedies that come their way. The silver lining types see all events as inevitable, a sure way to learn and move forward.

The best part about the word resilient is its implications. Those who see the silver in it are unable to see anything but that. They are not out of touch with the rest, the reality or the loss, but so much more firmly grounded in the shiny new lining that becomes visible. The lining does not obscure the picture just highlights it, outlines it, illuminates and makes it beautiful. The dark shape of doubt is brightened and becomes clear. What, before was too dark to see, is visible. Nothing can be awful with silver in it.

There is personal loss that leads to gratitude of small moments other wise forgotten when viewed in the pale silver glow of a resilient. There is the tragic drama of lies and fate that leads to radical acceptance of both self and others. There is devastating delays and deteriorating health that leads to a fuller grasp and embodiment of empathy. There are broken hearts and tears shed that lead to an honesty based on self worth and pride. There are moments of loneliness and times of solitude that lead to the appreciation of the company of others at inconvenient times. There are role reversals that teach patience, care and reason. There are rejections that teach perseverance and determination. There are doubts that teach assurance and there is a sense of a self destroyed that leads to an acceptance of that very self.

There is all of this and more in resilience. It is so much more that an the one word, one motion, one action. It is an attitude, a disposition, a never ending trait. It is always present, making one vulnerable and unprotected but guides us through the glare. It highlights, brightens and focuses the soul. It allows for and creates what wasn’t there before.

To be resilient is a gift to be cherished and shared.