Run, Walk, or Crawl… and find some beautiful today.

Hello everyone!
I know I’ve been absent from the blogging world for a while, I’ve been busy… pointing myself in the right direction, editing my first book (which is actually a memoir of the last five years but when I say memoir I cringe a bit), and getting my mind and body to connect in a healthy way. I’ve also been training for my first ever 1/2 marathon! Yay!
The marathon is September 28th, in Nashville. Which brings me to this post.
Many of you know about my friend, Lisa Bonchek Adams, who has been diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer. Lisa is an amazing woman and mother and wife and friend and on top of all of that, she is a hell of a writer. She has been blogging about her experience with cancer for several years and now she talks about the reality of her diagnosis.
I am raising money in Lisa’s honor for the Sloan-Kettering Cancer Research Center specifically to support research in metastatic breast cancer.

Pease follow the link below and check out my giving page, and make a donation to show your support for Lisa… and for me.

Read Full Post »

the sadness of gravity

i stand at the edge of the world and i jump and i soar higher and higher

… and then
a tug
a pull
i am unable to move forward
my leap was so high and so far and the wall that floats around in the between places of what we are and what we can be is there, just ahead

… and then
it starts in my feet
they cease their movement
i begin to float slowly back to the edge
a rope lassoed to my legs tugging me
tugging me
my arms try to swim through the open air
try to propel me onward towards that wall

… and then
the struggle takes all my strength
my arms keep moving and flailing and i can see that gravity is wrapped around me and every time i move it tangles me up more and i am moving and struggling and lurching and forgetting to pause

… and then
i inhale and fill my lungs and i exhale
inhale
exhale
repeating repeating repeating
i caress the pause like a forgotten lover coming to ease my mind

… and then
i am free
i am floating to that wall with my hand stretched out my fingers extended reaching past the safety of who i am

… and then
i pause, looking at both sides because both sides are equally beautiful and filled with the dreams of an awake mind

… and then
i jump into the middle of who i can be but the wall between the two has dissolved
the struggle has faded
the sadness of gravity has released me to move freely

so i do

Read Full Post »

landmines

the trouble with landmines,

you constantly look where your feet are planted,
the direction your toes are pointing,
you’ve navigated these fields before.
they try to stay hidden,
but your eyes are wide now,
you see them underneath the dandelions and the clover.

the trouble with landmines,

you pause just to hear the explosion,
quieting your breath to hear the snap of the trigger,
you brace for the blast.
blocking your movement in all directions,
zigging here but zagging there,
never a straight line.

the trouble with landmines,

you focus on the boom and not on your breath.

defuse them with a perfectly placed pause.

you can sit and wait,
you can run unafraid,
you can do both,
you should do both,

to avoid the trouble with landmines.

Read Full Post »

lightning strikes

lightning strikes
i cover my eyes
weaving its way through the cracks
in front of us all
shouting at the storm
we steady ourselves on your words

lightning strikes
the waves start to crest
we close our eyes and dive
unafraid
we see you walking on the ocean
our beacon
our breath

lightning strikes
sudden and full of anger
we are unafraid
linking arms because together we are strong
and you
shouting at the storm
a chorus of screams building behind you

lightning strikes
trembling and wet
the waves beat us relentlessly
and still we stay
facing the storm
and you
in front of us all
walking on the ocean

I wrote this poem for a dear friend, Lisa Bonchek Adams, who recently found out she has metastatic breast cancer. She is sharing her story with all of us here — you need to read her, it will change you forever.

I also started a facebook page for her that I am inviting everyone to join called, The Adventures of Flat Lisa, so that we all can take her on our adventures or our daily lives. We are all truly connected in this world, so share yourself.

Read Full Post »

logic collides

this is for the confused girl who sits at the table farthest from the window,
the one who orders her coffee without looking at the barista with his spiked hair and his milky skin, the one who sits without looking around, her full attention to the world just outside the window, never to the world that surrounds her.

this is for the hapless mother who forgot how to smile, the one who wakes every morning but can’t remember why, the one who sits up late when everyone else is asleep because it’s the only time she feels she can escape, she’ll lose herself in the pages of a book and dream of the places conjured by someone else’s imagination and she’ll forget how green her grass is.

this is for the friends who lost touch because someone said something a long time ago, their thoughts return to a time when they laughed but their hands never dial the phone, their fingers never push send on the apologetic email, they stay locked in the need for righteous indignation and they try to push back the memories of a forgotten time and they each are left with fading bits of yesterday.

this is for the daughter who wants so bad to be seen, a glance of recognition that never comes, the repeating scenes to prove herself that never work, the ongoing attempts to gain a love that is hidden from view, she becomes lost in the effort to be loved and misses the love being thrown at her from all directions by the people who see her in all her beautiful mess.

this is for the ones who open their eyes
this is for the ones who remember to breathe
this is for the ones who break themselves open
this is for the ones who hear the music
this is for the ones who feel
this is for the ones who love

this is for all of us who stare logic in the face and dare to defy it, we grab hold of our imperfections and hoist them over our heads for all to see, we willingly give our hearts to be broken again and again because broken hearts can heal, we tell ourselves we are awake and unafraid because soon we will believe it, we choose to revive the parts of us we thought were dead and we love with our whole heart and we watch as logic collides with the world spinning around us and we dance… to keep from falling.

Read Full Post »

the lies we tell ourselves

the moon is bloated with the thoughts being cast its direction tonight,
so many people staring up at the same sky,
we’re alone,
until that moment we realize we’re not,
that moment we see the moon hovering above with all the thoughts of complicated beings just like us.

we think a touch can’t heal a broken heart,
a glance can’t fill an empty soul,
a laugh can’t scare away the lingering darkness of nightmares.
we think we are useless.
we listen to our lies.

the moon hangs in the sky daring us to stare and be cradled in its glow,
it creates a path out of darkness,
we follow,
it leads us deeper into the night,
shining on the brokenness of the others gathered there.

we can’t mend the torn stories in our mind,
playing doctor with each thought before we let it loose,
we crave wholeness,
clinging to the pieces we should have thrown away,
we listen to our lies.

the moon slips behind a lingering cloud,
we hold the fading light in our open hand,
we are still,
hoping the glow will brush back the night,
all of us staring at the same sky.

we pause.
we listen.
we offer silence and hope and understanding.
we gather the broken pieces and the scattered truths and the hushed epiphanies.
we stare at the bloated moon.
we listen to each others lies.
we brush them away.
we leave them behind.
we grab our complicated stories.
we ignore the lies we tell ourselves.

Read Full Post »

a distant light

look across the open distance
a light
glowing
leading us to where it is
showing us everything in our path we have no worry from the things we can not see because the light is always there never fading bringing us back on course when we sway too far but even the light knows we have to walk in the darkness, alone, sometimes

… and yet
when we are standing under the light we can only see what is close and we are afraid to look past into the unknown of that darkness because there are things waiting for us out there

underneath the light it looks different
faint
small
the light only reaches those few feet in front of us
we squint and make our eyes small to see just a little further we force our eyes wide open hoping we can see past the barrier the light has created with the darkness so careful to stay in the boundary of that light because the darkness overpowers us and strips us of the want to move rooting our feet in the ground below we are powerless to move beyond

… and yet
from this distance we can see there is nothing to be afraid of and the things that frighten us stay away from the courage that leads us forward, always forward

the beauty of the distant light
calming
drawing us near
we navigate the obstacles in the path leaving the barriers behind we are not moths drawn to a flame we are strong complicated beings moving forward through the often darkened path sometimes afraid but courage is born from the fear that so often halted us now we will soar to the distant light, alone, sometimes

Thank you Hyde Park Poetry Rally!

Read Full Post »

the grip

I wish you could feel how tightly this grip is wound around my soul,
it cuts off all the oxygen that lights the candle flickering in my heart.
I pause and look and twist my way to try to loosen it.
I squirm and yell and curse and it never unravels, but I do.
I begin slowly like a single thread from your sweater that gets caught on a branch as you leisurely stroll by. You pull it, quickly, trying to remove it before further damage is done but you aren’t quick enough. It begins to unravel, more and more with each attempt at stopping it… it unravels until there is a hole — one that is visible to everyone who walks by. They try to pretend to not look, to time their glance with the movement of your eyes so you don’t catch them.
But you do.
You see them peering at the hole that started so small but now shows the world your fleshy skin underneath.
And it all started with that grip.
The one I placed on myself to try to snuff out all the worth that others could see because I didn’t want anyone to see. I wanted to be invisible, to slip under the wave and never be seen… I wanted to meld into the crowd of ordinary people gathered at the ordinary coffee shop to talk about their ordinary lives because no one pays attention to them. Everyone walks right past all those ordinary humans on their way to some other place. The place everyone wishes they were.
I wonder how tightly the grip has them.
I wonder if they smile so no one sees the unraveling.
I wonder if they laugh so no one hears the distant scream.
I wonder if they squirm when no one is looking.
That grip.
So tightly it holds.
The bruising can not be concealed.
and then…
I stop.
My movement.
My breath.
My anger.
My fear.
I breathe — deep, slow, deliberate.
I will every ounce of life into my lungs till I can hold no more.
I am filled with the life that I am claiming. It is mine, unmistakably mine.
and then…
I exhale.
Slow.
Calm.
Steady.
Peaceful.
That grip.
The steady stream of pain subsides in that instant I decided to not notice because noticing only gives it the power it never deserved. I stopped squirming and fighting and reviewing the repeating scenes — I stopped waiting for a change… I am becoming, I am becoming.
The grip is there…
always there, attempting to enforce its power over me when it knows I am barely breathing and trying to be small and searching for answers that don’t exist and wishing I was invisible.
But I am not invisible.
I am alive, still.
… the grip, it loosens.

Read Full Post »

all these things

all these things
fill our minds and hearts
make us remember and help us forget
make us lie to stay hidden
make us draw the curtains so no one will see
all these things float around us like fire flies on a warm summer night slowly our hand reaches out to touch the light and it vanishes only to appear further in the distance so we move again and again we reach but we’re always a step behind

all these things
churn around in our thoughts
so close to answers we don’t know we need
so close the heat from reality turns us a bright shade of pink
so close we turn away from the unfolding scene
all these things chip away at the hope you hold so tightly because if you let it go you disappear and no one sees you because the hope is the only proof you were ever there but it keeps slipping out from the cracks you can’t quite cover

all these things
can not be willed away
we learn so little from sweetness
we learn too often from the leftover scars
we learn to stand on uneven ground
all these things lead us to the path we follow the one that is barren of footsteps and hope until we take our first step then the path molds to us and we light our way with dreams and the path is ours and only ours it’s been waiting for us to begin to live

all these things
look like a distorted photo
we squint to see the detail
we squint and hold the picture at awkward angles
we squint until we can open our eyes wide
all these things we think have ruined us and broken us and kicked us repeatedly when we were already pleading for understanding have made us somebody who no longer waits for the silence to break and no longer stands still too afraid to begin and no longer asks others to point us in the direction of our own courage
all these things help us land exactly where we are
… right in the midst of our beautiful lives

Read Full Post »

Belong

I want to believe.
I think I belong,
I’m not really sure,
I’m scared of the words I put on this page,
fearful of the direction my thoughts will go,
unsure of the meaning,
avoiding the necessary pattern,
constantly questioning my motivation,
my sanity,
my ability to get you to hear.
… am I speaking too softly?
… have you tired of my attempts at clarity?
… could you see when I was weak?

I think I belong,
I’m not really sure,
I can’t find the brevity needed,
stringing words together so fast even I lose track,
my mind wanders from present to future to past,
randomly thrown together in a delicate mix,
waiting for a sign that you heard,
hoping my courage is safe,
hidden in an ornate metaphorical phrase.
… which words did you hear?
… am I still brave?
… are you leading the naysayers?

I think I belong,
I’m not really sure,
these words are neither black or white,
the picture they paint is in clear gray,
the mind they reveal is focused,
the beautiful disillusion of purpose,
pull it all together,
sit up straight,
breathe — become.
… are we safe in each others hands?
… does the sparkle still show?
… is a smile hidden inside?

I think I belong,
I’m not really sure,
moving away from concrete ways,
a chattering mouse quieting herself,
a novel destined for publication,
always becoming better,
welcoming revisions from a soul-filled author,
a story that needs to be told,
a song you will always remember.
… did I make you stumble?
… will you hear my melody again?
… am I learning who I am?

I think I belong,
I want to believe.

Read Full Post »