Who am I?

Somehow in the blur of life,
I’ve become a little lost,
forgotten who I am,
let myself get so busy,
trying to pass as something,
that I no longer look like me,
now I’m trying to remember,
to rediscover,
who I am.

You say I need to get to know me,
and I know you’re right,
but my heart tries to fight it,
looking for an easy way out,
or a simple escape,
from the truth.

I look inside and I cry,
broken pieces remain,
of a neglected spirit,
I used to cherish.

An artist,
a writer,
a singer,
a poet,
a creative flower,
in need of water.

Pieces of me cry out for attention,
wanting to be known,
like I used to know me.

This is Not About...

This is not about you. It's about me. It's about me and where I'm going, where I'm stuck, what I need, and what I want. It's about trying to find what fits into my life and what I want to do. It's about being me without catering to preconceived ideas about who I am and what I'm supposed to be like.

I'm not who you think I am. It's all a lie, except more like I've just outgrown who you see me as and haven't yet had the courage to tell you who I am now. I've changed and grown, and I feel good about who I am and what I believe, yet it feels like a lie to keep my thoughts to myself.

I wonder sometimes if I should be more blunt to come out and say what I believe and feel. Often it's not really anybody else's business - what I believe, what I feel, how I meet God, my thoughts on this or that, who I happen to think is cute, or what I see as meaningless ritual is all a matter of who I am and really have nothing to do with you. Yet I can't help wonder... Would you see me differently if you knew the truth about me? Would you be bothered that I'm no longer the kid you think I am? Or would you still accept me, grown up and changed as I may be?

This is a map to where I live.

This is a map to where I live.

didn't I write that for school last semester?

or something like that...

I think I live in confusion.

If there was a map of my head,

it would make life easier.

I live on the edge of school,

where one step to the left

means my life depends on getting good grades,

but half a step to the right

means I could just not care,

because none of it is really, about real life anyway.

At the crossroad of work,

where I love my job,

and I love my kids,

and I have fun with my coworkers,

but I hate the values,

and can't believe the lack of parenting

some of my kids get,

and I want so bad to do what I feel is right,

but have to fit the system,

and hate it when I can't

even speak my mind to coworkers

because to really speak out

could cost me my job

or at best cost me,

any respect I've earned there.

I can't afford to lose that respect,

not when I need it to continue

to advance my career,

but sometimes I wonder,

if even that is worth it.

I live across the street from the ideal social life,

from some sort of popular in crowd,

that invites me into their circle,

and welcomes me as I am.

I live on the edge of town,

within earshot of the church bells ringing

with calls to tradition and conformity,

and within sight of the woods

calling new songs,

and even older songs,

a different winding path to faith.

Prompt from A Writer's Book of Days: This is a map to where I live.

Sepia

A black and white photo,

shades of sepia, really,

capturing memories,

of nervous giggles,

childishly sophisticated,

declaring myself grown-up,

sharing intimate giggles,

loosened up by drinks,

blurred shades creating,

false closeness among strangers,

and yet it feels just right.

Untitled

A cluster here,
a group there,
circles of friends,
cozy up inside,
against the winter chill,
they group together,
to paint a picture,
of who they are,
creating one image,
like constellations of stars,
but I'm alone,
blue as the moon.

Writing prompt from A Writer's Book of Days: "Write about winter constellations."

Nean's Challenge, or Ten Things I Like About Me

Tonight I was talking with my crazy, annoying, favoritest cousin, and she gave me a challenge. She told me to list as many POSITIVE things about myself as I could, and that she wanted me to list at least ten things. So I'm making my list...

I can write
I'm a poet
I'm an artist
I'm a dreamer
I'm a visionary
I'm passionate about my kids
I believe in justice for the oppressed
I'm smart
I can laugh at myself
I'm trustworthy
I'm working towards my goal of getting a college degree
I like being challenged
I'm compassionate
I can sing
I'm a good listener
When I speak up in a group I can say things people value
I'm beautiful
I'm part of God's creation
I'm honest
I can hike
When I'm in nature I feel alive and unstoppable
I know when to talk and when to listen
I'm creative
I'm good at making things
I'm patient with my kids
I'm resourceful
I'm a thinker
I'm modest
I'm brave
I'm me.

I know not all of these things are ALWAYS true, but at least sometimes they are, and I'm proud I can say they're part of who I am.

Trustworthy

This foreign word,
you say is me?
It's not that I'm,
unworthy, per-say,
but... why me?
Why trust me when,
I'm so untrusting,
hiding behind a screen,
lost in tight-lipped silence?
Why not tell,
a better friend,
someone you've known,
more than I'll talk?
I wouldn't tell a secret,
but surely there's,
more worthy keepers,
of these things,
you trust me with?

The Bicycle

a humble trip,
through rain and sleet,
propelled by feet,
a course uncharted,
or forgotten,
a simple pair of wheels,
scavenging for meals,
her statement made,
an act of courage,
choosing to forage,
defying form,
redefining norm,
denying expectation,
an act of meditation,
on the worthiness of life.



This poem was inspired by the prompt "Create a character sketch based on the type of car the character owns. Select the car, ie: Buick, El Camino, Limo, or use the lack of a vehicle, as your starting point." which immediately brought to mind stories from "Carrot" who blogged about biking through all weather and living off of things other people threw away because she intentionally chose to minimize the impact she made on the earth.

Writer's Anonymous

Simple words,
spilt on paper,
but they're more,
addicting habit,
spreading ink,
like drops of feeling,
laughing as,
once unknown thrill,
becomes compulsory,
an insatiable need,
the inner poet,
once denied,
demands to be,
the only one,
who speaks,
the true.


Poetry Prompt - Write a poem using "Writers Anonymous" as your title. (Or, "Hi My Name Is")

Beginning to Glow

I've hidden in myself,
long enough I know,
clinging to my worries,
to save myself from me.

It isn't easy,
letting go,
but you take my hand.

Uncertain of my beauty,
I say I'm fairly plain,
just a simple woman,
inside and out,
nothing special really.

I wouldn't say I'm ugly,
but only others say,
I'm beautiful.

Shhing all my protests,
you say there's light inside,
my eyes are blinded to it,
but you say it's there,
and if I try to grow it,
I'll surely glow with it.

Pretending I can see it,
I try to be that light,
no one else can know,
but I'm starting to believe it,
that light is really there.

With every mention of a light,
I think of that,
deep hidden glow,
and every time I picture it,
it shines a little brighter.

Then some else confirms,
"You have a glow about you."

Something Different

Caught off guard,
by words I heard,
"It seems to me,
there's something different."

Something different,
a change in me?

I shrug,
and wonder,
what it means.

Have I really changed,
silently slipping,
into something different?

More colorful,
more confident,
more sure of myself.
They say I'm becoming,
a person of my own.

I try to fight the words,
to change is frightening,
but maybe,
it's true.

I'm a different me,
from what I used to be.

Poem and a Prayer

Heart's Desires

My reasoning head,
must fight to silence,
the illogical longings,
of my heart.
Pressing against,
my hearts desire,
to cast away,
the sanity of reason,
my mind demands,
my full attention.

My willful heart,
against all reason,
presses back,
pushing me,
from inside out,
to take a risk,
to trust the aching,
longing cry,
of beating heart,
that will not cease,
to feel the pain,
of others hurt.

I'm sure my body,
will explode,
if I can't stop,
the battle inside.

My heart must fight,
against my mind,
to say the thing,
that's deep inside.
To speak aloud,
my hearts desire,
must surely mean,
my needs are dire.
I'm losing every sign,
of sanity,
yet the longing,
ache remains,
pressing ceaselessly.

Dear God,
Hold me close.
Give me faith to trust,
the longing you put in my heart.
Help me to be your hands.
Give me eyes to see,
the path you lay before me.
Make my heart true,
so I can serve you better.
Heal my aching,
so I can love you fully.
Let me wrap others in your love,
as you have blessed me with friends,
who wrap your love around me.

What My Cousin Made Me Do

My pesky annoying cousin, who demands I call her wonderful and beautiful, took my laughing at her for being a sucker as saying I'm a sucker too, so now I have to be interviewed by her on my blog. Love ya Nean ;-)

The Interview:

1. If you could take a vacation (no expenses) anywhere in the world for one week, where would you go and who would you take with you?

There are a lot of places I'd love to visit for a week (or more). Someday I want to go back to Lesotho, I want to visit Scotland and Ireland, and I'd love to go to Taize, France. For a no expenses vacation, I'd probably jump at the chance to travel just about anywhere, especially if it was somewhere I could really learn about and experience another culture.

The who with part is a little trickier. I'd get too lonely if I went by myself, but I tend to need space and quiet time to think, so it would be hard to spend a whole week with someone very out going. I'd go anywhere with any of my covenant group buddies from my Africa trip, as well as a lot of the other Leadership Now people. There are people from my church and some other friends I might also choose as travel companions. As long we're talking anythings possible I could pick Fallon and some of my other ProU buddies, just because it would mean getting to meet them in person, but in reality it'd be terrifying to go away for a week with people I'd never met face to face.

2. Tell me about your dream job/career.

Do you know how ironically (un?)timely this question is? This week I've had some frustrations with my current work situation, so I've been thinking quite a bit about work and careers, what I'm doing now, and what I might eventually want to do. As difficult and frustrating as it can be at times, I love teaching and can't imagine having any other career (besides maybe eventually being a full time mom, but that would still be teaching just with kids of my own....) I think my dream place to teach at would be some kind of alternative school that emphasizes learning through living, and strongly considers student interests and learning styles when planning – something that embodies the educational values I grew up with home schooling.

3. What is your favorite way to relax?

Relax? What's that? I tend to have a hard time really relaxing. I can be lazy, waste time, etc., but that's not the same as relaxing. Even when I'm accomplishing nothing I tend to stress and worry over things and create busyness, rather than really relaxing.

To really relax I like to curl up in a blanket and drink hot tea, or lay outside watching stars (all the better if it's on the deck of a gently rocking sailboat). The right book to read, or sometimes when I write can help me relax. Connecting to nature also helps me relax, whether it's dancing in the rain, seeing the sun stream in the window, smelling crushed leaves or wood smoke, watching snow turn everything white, or feeling the wind in my hair.

4. If you had a million dollars, what would you do with it?

Ah, the million dollar question.... If I had a million dollars I'd want to give some to all the organizations I support. Pro-U would get some for an over due server upgrade, as well as for the scholarship. Some would go to Leadership Now (because they're awesome!). I'd give to Schreiber for their rec programs, and maybe donate to a few other places.

I'd also want to use some to pay for college, so I could get a degree without having to worry about money or balancing work and school. I'd give some to my parents for a new kitchen and to remodel the bathroom. I would use some to travel, and I would invest/save some.

5. What kind of music do you prefer and/or what is your current favorite song and why?

My tastes in music are pretty eclectic. The music itself can be just about any style for me to like it, but for me to really love a song it's lyrics need to speak to me. I hate it when I find a song with a really cool tune, but crappy lyrics.

I think my current favorite song is “Life in the City” by Michael Franti/Spearhead because the first line of it got me thinking about something that inspired a story I'm working on, and also because the more I listen to it the more powerful the rest of the lyrics seem. Franti is definitely my favorite artist right now, just because he writes such meaningful lyrics.

Now if anyone is into this and wants to be interviewed, let me know:

1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me" (or tell me some other way).

2. I will pick five questions to send to you by email for you to answer.

3. You will update your blog (or FB note) with the answers to the questions.

4. You will include this explanation & offer to interview someone else in the same post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you choose five questions for them to answer.

If I'm You

If I'm You
to the beautiful person who inspired this poem.

Caught in the tangle of life,
afraid to be judged,
desperate to be understood,
hiding in layers,
keeping out,
even best intentioned.

Does that sound stupid?
I laugh at myself.
Pretend it's a joke,
and no one will know,
it hurts when you laugh,
and say that's silly.

"No, I get it."
not even a laugh.

Understanding wraps around me,
like the hug I need.
Some way,
some how,
you break the layers.

Relief floods me,
knowing someone
knows me.

I wonder how
you know me,
understand me,
when I don't even understand me,

"Because you're me"
you say.

If I am you,
I hope someday,
someone,
admires me,
as much as I
admire you.

Honest Nights

I haven't even tried to write poetry in years. I like poetry - when I "get" it - but I've never thought I could write poetry. I used to try, but with about one exception in my life, I never thought I was very good at it. Before I'd graduated high school I'd put poetry on my list of things not worth wasting time on, but late last night I got some inspiration for a poem, and, since I'm trying to embrace the challenge of writing, I actually put it on paper today.


Honest Nights

Shrouded in silence
I sit and listen.
Keys click softly,
breath's a whisper.
Noises unheard in the light,
echo softly in the night.

Go to bed,
my tired eyes say.
I savor the silence,
just a little more.
Wrapped in the stillness of night,
most honestly I write.

In the middle of the night,
my thoughts and feelings
spill upon the page.
I write furiously to say,
things not put to paper in the day.

If only sleep were optional,
I wouldn't have to stop my pen,
when late at night,
I find my voice with honesty to write.

Hello My Name is ????

Sunday School was interesting today. I was scheduled to teach the children's class, but there was only one child, so the eight year old and I stayed with the one adult class (which also had very light attendance today). The five of us - me, my parents, the eight year old, and her dad - watched the five minute NOOMA video that the adult class was to be discussing.

The video was ironically timed for me. Lately I've been struggling over who I am and what I believe, how others see me and how I want to identify myself. Questioning my beliefs has led to questioning the essences of who I am. I've taken personality tests, poured my heart out on paper, and struggled to write honestly, all in hopes of understanding me just a little better. The video we watched was about just that: finding and claiming your true identity - your name and who you really are - under all the labels.

I was intrigued by the image of everyone in the video taking off layers of shirts, each with a different label to reveal that they all had simply "name" on their backs, as the video talked about your name being who you are. After watching the video we had a great discussion on names, labels, identities, and people pretending to be things they're not. Though I'm still seeking out who I am it was a neat class.