Posts Tagged ‘challenges’

A ring shatters the night calm

Shakes the sanity from deep inside

I know who it’s about

My heart rushes up into my throat

Rushed words

Despite our distance

We speed to the hospital

You never came to us, but we run to you

Heart over mind

Love devouring anger

No time for the past

Later or never

We run to you after you ran away from us

Reasons be damned

Tears will fall either way

When we say goodbye

The tether between us, snaps

Pain

Good or bad

We are who we are

Discord is nothing new to me

The place I grew up a toddler’s finger painting called chaos

Innocence dragged through the mud

Hosed off and kissed on the forehead

Pretend that didn’t happen

At intervals it didn’t

Until

Innocence was stripped to the bone at thirteen

Came out of the womb with my hand raised in the air

I’ve been on to you from day one

So, you think I don’t see the lie?

Even though I love you

I won’t let your false tears pass my guard

My tears are real, but you’ll never understand them

Just like I don’t know you

You don’t know me

Never will

Your decisions are forgiven

because

To see you there

Frightened 

The child in you peering out through your eyes

My mind surrenders to my broken heart

No one should be alone

Not even you

Not now

Yesterday I had an… I’ll call it an epiphany. Although it was slowly rolling closer like a cresting wave flowing through the ocean that suddenly turned into a tsunami. And yes, it dragged me under, threw me about and deprived me of air. Worse yet, my heart suffocated to the point of death and the only way to survive was to fight my perceptions of “what is” to see the truth. The truth is always so much more painful. It is my burden alone to recognize the world around me. To take cues from words and make assumptions that make us feel better about ourselves. I missed the actions stating the blaring obvious that I was wrong, because being wrong would hurt. I hurt. It’s my fault that I hurt. I’m usually guarded. Observant. Skeptical of the world. Sometimes I forget that people are human. I’ve put some on pedestals in the past which turned out to be catastrophic. Pain teaches you, until the pain subsides and you think you’ve learned. And I did. But it takes more than one slap in the face to teach you not to offer your cheek to everyone. It’s sad but true. Everyone you let in, you give the power to hurt you. Risk is part of life. Without taking risks, there is no life. But I digress.

There have been a few times in my life when I came crawling back to my husband and children, licking my wounds. Their love is true and unconditional. Our relationships respectful because of the full understanding of boundaries. Boundaries that were precisely erected over time using arguments, love and respect as binding agents.

This time, I licked my wounds in silence, using Reiki healing techniques my sister taught me. I engaged my higher self and rooted my being to earth. Once my heart’s ache subsided to the point where giving in to the pain was no longer an option, I knew what I had to do. My decision will go against my nature, but sometimes that’s a must. I don’t expect others to make and effort understand me. Nor do I want them to. The difference will be subtle to the world, but rendering to my instincts. It will take a while, but eventually standing behind this necessary deep line will become part of my balance and will keep me on a new, albeit, positive path.

I learned a long time ago that I am responsible for anything that happens in my life. Blaming others for not being who I wanted them to be created an issue where I felt exonerated in the emotional fall out. I don’t believe in the bigger person concept. That just makes me a false martyr. A very sad, angry and delusional “Bigger Person”. A bigger pain in the ass to everyone.

So, when an emotional tsunami hits, I let it pull me under, smash me against anger and hurt until I break its hold and I’m dumped onto the hot sand on my back, arms splayed looking at the storm rolling above. I understand I’m there because I swam to far, passed where I should have been, and entered the deep waters where I could no longer escape  the cataclysmic wave. I’m sorry for stepping over the line. I’m sorry for being oblivious of the boundaries. Complete peace won’t return any time soon, which will make it easier for me to see the line.

 

Is the collusion of snowflakes a blanket of ignorance that makes everything the same? Suffocate differences. The absence of color. Numbing pain. A blanket of cold appearing as warmth in desperate hands. Blood and bone beneath sheets of foggy ice. Freezing thoughts of comfort. A slow death. Sleeping betrayal. Yes. But. The sun comes out. Heat melts the eyes awakens the mind and stimulates the heart. Not all but some. Enough. To burn the blanket. Dissolving the carefully woven crystals arresting thoughts. Salvation. Self-preservation. In that light, that encouraging inferno, we cling to each other. We are one, the decrepit, the strong, the despairing, the hearty. There are no them—we—us. Just me.  

It’s The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)

It’s the end of the world as know, I feel fine

That’s great, it starts with an earthquake
Birds, snakes, and aeroplanes
Lenny Bruce is not afraid
Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn
World serves its own needs, dummy serve your own needs
Feed it off an aux speak, grunt, no, strength
Ladder start to clatter with fear, fight down height
Wire in a fire, representing seven games
A government for hire and a combat site
Left of west and coming in a hurry
With the furies breathing down your neck

Team by team reporters baffled, trumped, tethered, cropped
Look at that low playing! Fine, then
Uh oh, overflow, population, common food
But it’ll do
Save yourself, serve yourself
World serves its own needs, listen to your heart bleed
Dummy with the rapture and the revered and the right
Right
You vitriolic, patriotic, slam, fight, bright light
Feeling pretty psyched

It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine

Six o’clock, TV hour
Don’t get caught in foreign towers
Slash and burn, return
Listen to yourself churn
Locking in, uniforming, book burning, blood letting
Every motive escalate
Automotive incinerate
Light a candle, light a votive
Step down, step down
Watch your heel crush, crushed, uh-oh
This means no fear cavalier
Renegade steer clear!
A tournament, tournament, a tournament of lies
Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives and I decline

It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine

It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine

The other night I dreamt of knives
Continental drift divide
Mountains sit in a line, Leonard Bernstein
Leonid Brezhnev, Lenny Bruce and Lester Bangs
Birthday party, cheesecake, jelly bean, boom!
You symbiotic, patriotic, slam book neck, right?
Right!

It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine

It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine

Songwriters: JOHN MICHAEL STIPE, MICHAEL E. MILLS, PETER LAWRENCE BUCK, WILLIAM THOMAS BERRY
© Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group

Born with flesh of hardened steel and a sharp tongue

I told the imposter to leave

He was blood, but it poured over us instead of through us

A poison generations long

killed who he should have been

Hate possessed my father, and put demon in his place

I stood before him, he who wanted respect without earning it

he who hated us, blamed our mom, the breath of life for his miserable existence

and spent every waking moment sharing the misery

Mom is gone; deceased

Father alive: estranged

I have a family

I am happy

I am still shield and sword

I still protect my family

 

 

 

 

 

 

Say Thank You
Say thank you. Say thank you to the women who gave you a voice. Say thank you to the women who were arrested and imprisoned and beaten and gassed for you to have a voice. Say thank you to the women who refused to back down, to the women who fought tirelessly to give you a voice. Say thank you to the women who put their lives on hold, who –lucky for you — did not have “better things to do” than to march and protest and rally for your voice. So you don’t feel like a “second class citizen.” So you get to feel “equal.”
Thank Susan B. Anthony and Alice Paul for your right to vote.
Thank Elizabeth Stanton for your right to work.
Thank Maud Wood Park for your prenatal care and your identity outside of your husband.
Thank Rose Schneiderman for your humane working conditions.
Thank Eleanor Roosevelt and Molly Dewson for your ability to work in politics and affect policy.
Thank Margaret Sanger for your legal birth control.
Thank Carol Downer for your reproductive healthcare rights.
Thank Sarah Muller for your equal education.
Thank Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Shannon Turner, Gloria Steinem, Zelda Kingoff Nordlinger, Rosa Parks, Angela Davis, Malika Saada Saar, Wagatwe Wanjuki, Ida B. Wells, Malala Yousafzai. Thank your mother, your grandmother, your great-grandmother who did not have half of the rights you have now.
You can make your own choices, speak and be heard, vote, work, control your body, defend yourself, defend your family, because of the women who marched. You did nothing to earn those rights. You were born into those rights. You did nothing, but you reap the benefits of women, strong women, women who fought misogyny and pushed through patriarchy and fought for you. And you sit on your pedestal, a pedestal you are fortunate enough to have, and type. A keyboard warrior. A fighter for complacency. An acceptor of what you were given. A denier of facts. Wrapped up in your delusion of equality.
You are not equal. Even if you feel like you are. You still make less than a man for doing the same work. You make less as a CEO, as an athlete, as an actress, as a doctor. You make less in government, in the tech industry, in healthcare.
You still don’t have full rights over your own body. Men are still debating over your uterus. Over your prenatal care. Over your choices.
You still have to pay taxes for your basic sanitary needs.
You still have to carry mace when walking alone at night. You still have to prove to the court why you were drunk on the night you were raped. You still have to justify your behavior when a man forces himself on you.
You still don’t have paid (or even unpaid) maternity leave. You still have to go back to work while your body is broken. While you silently suffer from postpartum depression.
You still have to fight to breastfeed in public. You still have to prove to other women it’s your right to do so. You still offend others with your breasts.
You are still objectified. You are still catcalled. You are still sexualized. You are still told you’re too skinny or you’re too fat. You’re still told you’re too old or too young. You’re applauded when you “age gracefully.” You’re still told men age “better.” You’re still told to dress like a lady. You are still judged on your outfit instead of what’s in your head. What brand bag you have still matters more than your college degree.
You are still being abused by your husband, by your boyfriend. You’re still being murdered by your partners. Being beaten by your soulmate.
You are still worse off if you are a woman of color, a gay woman, a transgender woman. You are still harassed, belittled, dehumanized.
Your daughters are still told they are beautiful before they are told they are smart. Your daughters are still told to behave even though “boys will be boys.” Your daughters are still told boys pull hair or pinch them because they like them.
You are not equal. Your daughters are not equal. You are still systemically oppressed.
Estonia allows parents to take up to three years of leave, fully paid for the first 435 days. United States has no policy requiring maternity leave.
Singapore’s women feel safe walking alone at night. American women do not.
New Zealand’s women have the smallest gender gap in wages, at 5.6%. United States’ pay gap is 20%.
Iceland has the highest number of women CEOs, at 44%. United States is at 4.0%.
The United States ranks at 45 for women’s equality. Behind Rwanda, Cuba, Philippines, Jamaica.
But I get it. You don’t want to admit it. You don’t want to be a victim. You think feminism is a dirty word. You think it’s not classy to fight for equality. You hate the word pussy. Unless of course you use it to call a man who isn’t up to your standard of manhood. You know the type of man that “allows” “his” woman to do whatever she damn well pleases. I get it. You believe feminists are emotional, irrational, unreasonable. Why aren’t women just satisfied with their lives, right? You get what you get and you don’t get upset, right?
I get it. You want to feel empowered. You don’t want to believe you’re oppressed. Because that would mean you are indeed a “second-class citizen.” You don’t want to feel like one. I get it. But don’t worry. I will walk for you. I will walk for your daughter. And your daughter’s daughter. And maybe you will still believe the world did not change. You will believe you’ve always had the rights you have today. And that’s okay. Because women who actually care and support other women don’t care what you think about them. They care about their future and the future of the women who come after them.
Open your eyes. Open them wide. Because I’m here to tell you, along with millions of other women that you are not equal. Our equality is an illusion. A feel-good sleight of hand. A trick of the mind. I’m sorry to tell you, but you are not equal. And neither are your daughters.
But don’t worry. We will walk for you. We will fight for you. We will stand up for you. And one day you will actually be equal, instead of just feeling like you are.
~ Dina Leygerman, 2017