from the beginning- before you were you – you were a wonder
the one to survive when there would be only one
bursting with life inside me
quietly observant
taking your time to get to know the world
your light burned with a growing intensity
shining brighter
shining on and on
full of wonder and hope
confident and strong
beautiful and good
brave and true
full of kindness and light
you are my wonder
– each day- each moment – each breath – we get a chance –
– to be great – to be memorable – to set fire to the world-
– to create a slow burn – to reach deeply into something and come out whole –
– to be wondrous and wonderful – full of light and wishing –
-to take it all in and breath our life into someone –
– to exhale our goodness-
-to send someone to their zenith –
– to burst tiny rays of light filling the space where darkness hides-
– each day- each moment – each breath – we get a chance –
Weighed down and heavy, something poisonous and ugly has seeped in. It pours in, filling my head and wrenching my stomach. It skulks up my back clenching and gripping me there, spreading its throbbing hum. Its heat pulses at the top of my skin, tingling, radiating…. It settles in, challenging me to resist. Helpless, I succumb.
The trees moaned, heavy with their load. Slumped and sagging, their majestic self given over to this encumbrance. One by one they succumbed. Releasing their burden, their branches danced back to life, swaying and moving with the beautiful rhythm of their liberty. She envied their freedom.
They came hurling at her. Over and over. Flinching, she felt each one enter her, bursting with pain.
“Words will never hurt us”.
They lodged themselves in places she would never reach. Relentless. They came and came.
“Words will never hurt us”.
Cracked wide open, she felt her light slowly leaving her. Fading and fading.
“Words will never hurt us”.
Until there was nothing of her left. Empty of all she was to be. Until she was nobody.
“Words will never hurt us”…………………….
She sought for the place that she knew. She had mislaid her intentions. Her bearings unsure. She was lost. Hungry for its company, she had been there before. She recognized its purpose. Relished in its ease. She was better there. Seeing. Breathing and breathing. Every feeling tingling to the surface. Open and full of knowing. If only she could find her way.
A while back I had written something similar to what is here. Unfortunately, I accidentally deleted it. I’ve attempted to recreate it here.
I remember those early days of starting a relationship. Of falling in love when we didn’t even know that was what we were doing. We unpacked our stories one by one, telling and telling, wanting to know everything all at once, yet savoring the slow unraveling of each other’s past. I loved these days. Once the stories were all told, we slipped into a different space of being comfortable in our past while building the stories of our future. Children came and they became our new story. We doted on each thing they did until we wondered what we ever had to talk about before they come into our lives. We got lost in their living. Years passed and we became unrecognizable. Strangers awkwardly sharing an intimate space. The distance between us too difficult to cross. We turned our backs and walked away.
The words are scattered everywhere. I look at them, twisting and turning them, coaxing them to do something. They are reluctant. I try to pull them together but nothing fits. I’m famished. Craving something real. Something that I can get entwined in with no escape. My heart races. That dry fear sits in the back of my throat with an ache. What if this is all there is? What if I’m done with this? The panic is undeniable. I’m not prepared to let this go.
Several years ago, I stumbled across the poem “On This Day”. It struck me, glued me to my spot as I read it and then read it again. I think about these words from time to time and every once in a while they are so strongly planted in my mind that I feel that I need to share them. Perhaps someone else is in need of their wisdom. Or maybe it is just me that needs to pay closer attention to their message. Today is one of those days. In particular I’m struck with the words “examine your demands on others”.
It is very easy to sit back and judge what people have done or haven’t done, where they have let you down, where they didn’t meet your expectations or do what you had hoped or what you thought they should do. We are so hard on each other. We really are. When in reality, when I stop and think about it, when I take a breath and consider it all, what I realize is that we are all just doing the best we can. Examine your demands. Speak your love. And speak it again.
On This Day
Mend a quarrel. Search out a forgotten friend. Dismiss suspicion and replace it with trust. Write a love letter. Share some treasure. Give a soft answer. Encourage youth. Manifest your loyalty in a word or deed.
Keep a promise. Find the time. Forego a grudge. Forgive an enemy. Listen. Apologize if you were wrong. Try to understand. Flout envy. Examine your demands on others. Think first of someone else. Appreciate, be kind, be gentle. Laugh a little more.
Deserve confidence. Take up arms against malice. Decry complacency. Express your gratitude. Worship your God. Gladden the heart of a child. Take pleasure in the beauty and wonder of the earth. Speak your love. Speak it again. Speak it still again. Speak it still once again.
– Author Unknown
I have a 7th grader. We went to dinner recently, just the two of us. Yes, he is still ok with being seen with me in public. As we sat there talking I loved the ease of our conversation. We flitted from subject to subject. I would have liked to have allowed it continue, this aimless wandering, but I’m a mom and there are things that I need to understand, things I need to know. So, we got to the topic of middle school. Entering 7th grade, he is squarely in the middle of the middle and I wanted to know how that felt, what it meant. Middle school is that time when the sorting starts, when kids start to label and organize each other, placing them where they think they should be with criteria that takes on a meaning and life of its own.
This is what I learn….. The jocks are the most popular, but even at the jock table, there seems to be a ranking. Just by mere proximity the girls that sit near the jock table are popular, but the criteria for their popularity is a bit fuzzy – they seem to be a mix of athletes, smart girls and I suppose the pretty ones. He doesn’t place much value on how they look. He goes on to explain the make-up of the different categories, how the kids have been sorted, ranked and classified. Without even asking he tells me, “I’m kind of second class popular.” He seems to not be bothered by his label, comfortable with his friends and their place in the middle.
In the coming days, I found myself reflecting on that conversation, looking back at that time in my life. I was second class popular. I was sorted and ranked and classified. I am not even sure how it happened, but it did. The labels from those years hadn’t changed much they were similar to the tags my son was putting on these kids. Why is it this way? Why does this kind of shallow view of who these kids are still exist? And then it occurred to me. WE do this. WE perpetuate this. As parents, we are labeling and sorting and placing value on these very things.
I listen to our conversations which are monopolized by our children’s lives. (By the way, when did we stop talking about our own lives and dreams?- Another blog for another day) What team are they on, what position do they play, how much play time do they get (it is not enough to just be on the team), are they in advanced classes, are they an honor student, what is their GPA? I watch as we label and sort and place value. We rate, rank, measure. I see how those of us who have children that don’t fit squarely into one of these categories wince a bit at the questions. We fumble with our excuses, trying to explain the value that our kids have, the worth of what they are doing. It is a clumsy awkward exchange. I see the look of superiority cross the faces of the parents whose kids “fit” who proudly wear one or more of these labels. It makes my stomach turn. Our markers are so limited in their scope, so narrow and shallow. “Popular”, “Athlete”, “Scholar”. This is what we talk about – this is where we place our children.
Wouldn’t it be great if we asked each other – What makes your child happy? What brings your child joy? What music makes them dance around the house? What are they dreaming about? What book can’t they put down? Who do they look up to? What have they created? What are they doing do be kind, brave, true, a good friend, bring value, change the world?
Our children are so much more than these labels. They are so full of wonder and goodness and hope. Can’t we talk about that? They are amazing little wonders that put their mark on the world each and every day. Marks that are more meaningful than the winning touch down or their GPA.
I see this in your children. They are good, empathetic, funny, inventors, artists, awesome, good friends, leaders, dancers, caring, kind, optimists, generous, honest, creators, dreamers, story tellers, singers, entrepreneurs, silly, real, fun, brave, adventurous, good.
Let’s change our labels.
Regular Girl Musings 