After having purchased Out of Oz, the fourth and last book in my favorite series, on the day it was released, I hesitated to open the book at all. When my husband asked me why I haven’t been reading the book I was so anxious to get my hands on, I picked up the book, thought for a second and answered “If I start reading it, then eventually I’ll finish and it will be over.” I know it sounds childish, but I have really enjoyed these books!
I finally decided to open my book and before I realized it, I was about a third of the way through. I needed a distraction. Ironic, right? ADHD engage. We had a trip to the used book store this afternoon and I went a little bit crazy. My birthday mad money was burning a hole in my virtual pocketbook, so I bought three books on social responsibility, three work related books, a book for children who want to write fiction (which I’d like to read before giving it to my daughters), a quick read novel and Al Gore’s Nobel Peace Prize Lecture.
I’ve started three of the books, which are better than I expected, and I am going to reward myself tonight by reading a bit of Out of Oz. It seems more chaotic and obsessive here in writing than it does in my brainspace. I’m excited though, because tomorrow is housework & laundry day, so I’ll probably get a lot of reading done.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
ADHD Blog #2 part two: Housework
A dissection of a day in my life of housework:
Gets kids off to school. Has coffee. Checks email. Checks Facebook. Checks Twitter. Spews random thoughts on Twitter. Reads through Facebook news feed. Replies to Facebook comments/posts. Replies to emails. Journals. Showers. Wonders where to start on housework (sometimes makes a list that I never follow – sometimes makes a list of lists that I need to make – forgets about lists). Starts with dishes. Starts to empty dishwasher. Takes one coffee cup out of dishwasher and thinks “another cup of coffee sounds good”. Makes a second cup of coffee. Sits down with coffee and looks at Twitter/Facebook. Checks email. Decides that now is a good time to pay bills. Pays one bill. Looks through piles of mail for other bills. Sees a coupon for Kohl’s. Checks Kohl’s website. Realizes that coffee cup is empty. Takes cup (along with cup used earlier) to the kitchen for another cup of coffee. Sees dishwasher open. Goes back to emptying dishwasher. Eats breakfast. Takes dish to kitchen. Sees empty, open dishwasher. Realizes I forgot to refill dishwasher with dirty dishes. Fills dishwasher. Makes coffee. Remembers bills that need to be found and paid. Goes back to piles of mail. Feels irritated about all the piles of mail. Makes one big pile of mail. Dusts table in the entry where the piles had been. Decides to dust livingroom. Realizes that a million toys need to be picked up. Takes a million toys into kids room. Notices dirty clothes on kids room floor. Picks up dirty clothes in kids room. Takes clothes to washing machine. Clothes in washing machine have been there too long. Drops dirty clothes on top of laundry mountain and turns on washer to rewash clothes. Turns on dryer to fluff clothes before folding. Goes up stairs. Thinks about lunch. Makes coffee instead. Remembers bills. Finds a few bills. Sits down at computer with coffee and bills. Checks Facebook. Checks Twitter. Forgets about bills. Forgets about housework. Looks at time. Panics! Grabs dog and runs like a mad woman to bus stop. Picks up kids. Chats with bus stop moms. Goes home and does homework with kids. Makes dinner. Opens the dishwasher and realizes that I forgot to turn on dishwasher. Turns on dishwasher. Eats dinner with family. Realizes that I forgot to go through kids backpacks. Finds out that tomorrow is spirit day. Grabs spirit shirts and runs downstairs and empties dryer, moves clothes from washer to dryer. Washes spirit shirts. Goes to bed. Wakes up to realize that I forgot to move spirit shirts from washer to dryer. Runs downstairs empties dryer into basket. Puts spirit shirts in dryer. Forgets about clean clothes in basket. Helps kids get ready for school (except for spirit shirts) until the very last minute. Grabs spirit shirts out of dryer and feels like crying because THANK THE GODS, they’re actually dry. Sends kids to school. Checks email. Checks Twitter. Checks Facebook. Thinks about vacuuming…
Gets kids off to school. Has coffee. Checks email. Checks Facebook. Checks Twitter. Spews random thoughts on Twitter. Reads through Facebook news feed. Replies to Facebook comments/posts. Replies to emails. Journals. Showers. Wonders where to start on housework (sometimes makes a list that I never follow – sometimes makes a list of lists that I need to make – forgets about lists). Starts with dishes. Starts to empty dishwasher. Takes one coffee cup out of dishwasher and thinks “another cup of coffee sounds good”. Makes a second cup of coffee. Sits down with coffee and looks at Twitter/Facebook. Checks email. Decides that now is a good time to pay bills. Pays one bill. Looks through piles of mail for other bills. Sees a coupon for Kohl’s. Checks Kohl’s website. Realizes that coffee cup is empty. Takes cup (along with cup used earlier) to the kitchen for another cup of coffee. Sees dishwasher open. Goes back to emptying dishwasher. Eats breakfast. Takes dish to kitchen. Sees empty, open dishwasher. Realizes I forgot to refill dishwasher with dirty dishes. Fills dishwasher. Makes coffee. Remembers bills that need to be found and paid. Goes back to piles of mail. Feels irritated about all the piles of mail. Makes one big pile of mail. Dusts table in the entry where the piles had been. Decides to dust livingroom. Realizes that a million toys need to be picked up. Takes a million toys into kids room. Notices dirty clothes on kids room floor. Picks up dirty clothes in kids room. Takes clothes to washing machine. Clothes in washing machine have been there too long. Drops dirty clothes on top of laundry mountain and turns on washer to rewash clothes. Turns on dryer to fluff clothes before folding. Goes up stairs. Thinks about lunch. Makes coffee instead. Remembers bills. Finds a few bills. Sits down at computer with coffee and bills. Checks Facebook. Checks Twitter. Forgets about bills. Forgets about housework. Looks at time. Panics! Grabs dog and runs like a mad woman to bus stop. Picks up kids. Chats with bus stop moms. Goes home and does homework with kids. Makes dinner. Opens the dishwasher and realizes that I forgot to turn on dishwasher. Turns on dishwasher. Eats dinner with family. Realizes that I forgot to go through kids backpacks. Finds out that tomorrow is spirit day. Grabs spirit shirts and runs downstairs and empties dryer, moves clothes from washer to dryer. Washes spirit shirts. Goes to bed. Wakes up to realize that I forgot to move spirit shirts from washer to dryer. Runs downstairs empties dryer into basket. Puts spirit shirts in dryer. Forgets about clean clothes in basket. Helps kids get ready for school (except for spirit shirts) until the very last minute. Grabs spirit shirts out of dryer and feels like crying because THANK THE GODS, they’re actually dry. Sends kids to school. Checks email. Checks Twitter. Checks Facebook. Thinks about vacuuming…
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
My ADHD Blog #2, part one: Housework
Now, before I get started here, I want to say that there are something like 88million books on ADD/ADHD and how to function, raise children, cope socially, spiritually, emotionally, and even hormonally. There are books that compare the ADHD thinking process, to the thinking process of someone without ADHD. Books on men with ADHD, women with ADHD, girls with ADHD, boys with ADHD. There are books with tips on how to function at work with ADHD, books to help you eat right with ADHD and books to help you stay healthy with ADHD. If you trip over a book on ADHD in the street, there is probably a book on ADHD that will have tips on how to cope with tripping over that ADHD book in the street –with ADHD.
I am not here to give tips, or tell anyone how to cope with ADHD. I am here to tell you about my personal experience with ADHD; however readers should feel free to leave comments with tips, or recommend books that they’ve found helpful. I may also take the liberty to repost those comments at a later date if all credits/citations are in order. For now, I will stick to my own stories.
As I have mentioned, I have suspected for many years that I have ADHD before I finally asked for help and was diagnosed. For the most part, it didn’t really matter to me that I might have ADHD, I never allowed myself to use it as an excuse for anything, still I felt inadequate and often I simply thought that I was crazy.
Housework, in particular, is something that has always overwhelmed me.
As a child, I shared a room with my sister and we cleaned our room only when our parents absolutely insisted. We were both equally messy and we both equally resented the other for her part of the mess. When we finally got our own rooms (my mother likes to tell this story), my room was roomy and for the most part clean, but my sister’s room was smaller and still messy. Not because she was messier or lazier than me, but because once my room was clean, I obsessed over it. I remember lying on my bed and just staring at my clean room for hours. My sister, I believe, still found her messy room overwhelming and being older than me, she just had better things to do. (I wonder if she’ll read this and be upset with me…)
When I was a teenager, a friend of mine came to live with our family for a little while and she shared my room with me. We were long time friends and confidants, so we sometimes bickered like sisters. Once she moved in, my room was immediately messy. The thing was, it was my mess mostly and I couldn’t deal with it. Sharing my room just made me feel out of control and overwhelmed. I was worried about touching her things, worried about where to put my own things and losing things, or misplacing her things. I worried about where my space ended and hers began. She would ask me to help her clean the room and I would just shrug. I honestly had no idea why I needed to avoid it altogether.
As a young adult, in my first marriage, I worked a lot, grabbing all the overtime I could and since our apartment was roomy and we didn’t have a lot of “stuff”, it was fairly easy for me to maintain. Even after my daughter was born, I worked all day and left her with caregivers until evening, so the apartment was almost always left neat and clean. This was true as well in my second/current marriage, though I had my little junk drawers here and there – my little pockets of chaos. I still worked many hours and we eventually fit a monthly house cleaner into our budget.
My housework routines and efforts began to change for the worse when I had my two younger children and became a work-at-home mom. Working for myself, I could no longer afford a house cleaner. Still the house was kept clean, except my little pockets of chaos got bigger and bigger. The laundry room became my hell hole and my office became my free-for-all, which was terrible because my step-daughter slept in my loft/office when she stayed with us. I always felt bad that she had to deal with my madness up there.
With my ADHD, I’m a “piler not a filer” – and my office was filled with piles of magazines, paperwork, lists, mail, bills, my daughter’s school work, you name it and I’m sure you’d find it in a pile in my office. Occasionally, I cleaned my office half-assed and other times I had to step over piles and books just to get to my desk. When we moved out of that house, the dust in the corners of my office was so thick it was embarrassing. You just can’t dust something that you can’t get to.
In the last few years, under a great deal of stress, my ADHD has gotten much worse and my issues with housework have been the portal through which it has manifested a great deal. While I do try to keep things clean, the messiness has beaten me to a pulp. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve looked at my husband and cried “I just don’t know where to put things!” When I do get organized on rare occasion, I find myself being that obsessive little girl staring at a clean room, trying to keep the world out, becoming easily frustrated when something goes out of place and eventually giving up.
More often than not, my house is a mess with a clean kitchen. And yes, I HAVE read FlyLady.com. I want to go a few rounds with her in a dark alley somewhere. Of course I’m joking… seriously, I am.
(To be continued. Tomorrow, I’ll be posting Blog #2 part two: Housework -
A dissection of a day in my life of housework.)
I am not here to give tips, or tell anyone how to cope with ADHD. I am here to tell you about my personal experience with ADHD; however readers should feel free to leave comments with tips, or recommend books that they’ve found helpful. I may also take the liberty to repost those comments at a later date if all credits/citations are in order. For now, I will stick to my own stories.
As I have mentioned, I have suspected for many years that I have ADHD before I finally asked for help and was diagnosed. For the most part, it didn’t really matter to me that I might have ADHD, I never allowed myself to use it as an excuse for anything, still I felt inadequate and often I simply thought that I was crazy.
Housework, in particular, is something that has always overwhelmed me.
As a child, I shared a room with my sister and we cleaned our room only when our parents absolutely insisted. We were both equally messy and we both equally resented the other for her part of the mess. When we finally got our own rooms (my mother likes to tell this story), my room was roomy and for the most part clean, but my sister’s room was smaller and still messy. Not because she was messier or lazier than me, but because once my room was clean, I obsessed over it. I remember lying on my bed and just staring at my clean room for hours. My sister, I believe, still found her messy room overwhelming and being older than me, she just had better things to do. (I wonder if she’ll read this and be upset with me…)
When I was a teenager, a friend of mine came to live with our family for a little while and she shared my room with me. We were long time friends and confidants, so we sometimes bickered like sisters. Once she moved in, my room was immediately messy. The thing was, it was my mess mostly and I couldn’t deal with it. Sharing my room just made me feel out of control and overwhelmed. I was worried about touching her things, worried about where to put my own things and losing things, or misplacing her things. I worried about where my space ended and hers began. She would ask me to help her clean the room and I would just shrug. I honestly had no idea why I needed to avoid it altogether.
As a young adult, in my first marriage, I worked a lot, grabbing all the overtime I could and since our apartment was roomy and we didn’t have a lot of “stuff”, it was fairly easy for me to maintain. Even after my daughter was born, I worked all day and left her with caregivers until evening, so the apartment was almost always left neat and clean. This was true as well in my second/current marriage, though I had my little junk drawers here and there – my little pockets of chaos. I still worked many hours and we eventually fit a monthly house cleaner into our budget.
My housework routines and efforts began to change for the worse when I had my two younger children and became a work-at-home mom. Working for myself, I could no longer afford a house cleaner. Still the house was kept clean, except my little pockets of chaos got bigger and bigger. The laundry room became my hell hole and my office became my free-for-all, which was terrible because my step-daughter slept in my loft/office when she stayed with us. I always felt bad that she had to deal with my madness up there.
With my ADHD, I’m a “piler not a filer” – and my office was filled with piles of magazines, paperwork, lists, mail, bills, my daughter’s school work, you name it and I’m sure you’d find it in a pile in my office. Occasionally, I cleaned my office half-assed and other times I had to step over piles and books just to get to my desk. When we moved out of that house, the dust in the corners of my office was so thick it was embarrassing. You just can’t dust something that you can’t get to.
In the last few years, under a great deal of stress, my ADHD has gotten much worse and my issues with housework have been the portal through which it has manifested a great deal. While I do try to keep things clean, the messiness has beaten me to a pulp. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve looked at my husband and cried “I just don’t know where to put things!” When I do get organized on rare occasion, I find myself being that obsessive little girl staring at a clean room, trying to keep the world out, becoming easily frustrated when something goes out of place and eventually giving up.
More often than not, my house is a mess with a clean kitchen. And yes, I HAVE read FlyLady.com. I want to go a few rounds with her in a dark alley somewhere. Of course I’m joking… seriously, I am.
(To be continued. Tomorrow, I’ll be posting Blog #2 part two: Housework -
A dissection of a day in my life of housework.)
Monday, November 14, 2011
My ADHD Blog #1 Introduction
Tuesday November 14, 2011
Finally medicated, I’ve decided to write about my daily life with ADHD, both past and present. I’ve always suspected that I have ADHD, but have, for the most part been able to deal with it in different ways. My ADD worsens when I am under stress, or sometimes even when I am nervous or excited. In hindsight, I can see where/when my ADHD has caused me to fail and other times when it has benefited me. Yes, you read that right; benefited.
For the last few years I’ve been under a great deal of stress and my ADD has caused my life to become unmanageable. Slowly, but surely, I am finding balance and learning how to deal with this (and other things in my life) in a healthy way.
I am not a clinician, or any kind of medical professional, just a woman trying to live with ADHD.
*dramatic, harmonized chime here*
These are my stories.
Last year my daughter was diagnosed with ADHD; predominately inattentive, though she has her hyperactive moments too. Being so young, her hyperactive moments tend to manifest almost as tics. When she would get excited too quickly, she would let out a loud scream and suddenly be afraid, as she also has sensitivity to loud noises even her own. She had trouble in school in just about every subject and was forgetful, fidgety and talkative in class.
My husband and I began our own research on the internet and came to the conclusion it was time to get a professional opinion. Our pediatrician (who is our champion) diagnosed her with ADHD; predominately inattentive, started her on medication and increased the dosage gradually. We saw the difference in her behaviors soon after and then, a month after starting medication, she moved three reading levels up at school. Since then, it’s difficult to pull her away from her books.
Once my daughter was diagnosed, I knew I wanted to be tested as well. Having some other health issues, my doctor was careful and slow to add a new medication to my regime, though there was no doubt about my diagnosis. Being new on the medication, the only change I’ve noticed so far is feeling less overwhelmed and more motivated to start on projects I couldn’t deal with before.
I continue to be excited about my new journey, but I will admit that I worry I might miss the fun parts of my ADHD. I suppose that this is a common worry with any behavioral disorder; the fear of medication changing the good things. Doctors say no, but I think it’s a valid concern. It’s hard to know where one’s creativity and talents stem from, where the roots took hold. For me, those answers continue to unfold.
I think that much of my sense of humor came from rapid cognitive dissonance, which rather than remain uncomfortable, I chose to play with the conflict in my own mind. This was very entertaining to me and often to people around me. Laughter is a good drug.
In the nineties, I wrote stream of consciousness type journals every day and used my writing to create a stand-up comedy act. I did alright with it – I wasn’t horrible at it. I had the opportunity to open for a few… eh, let’s call them “semi-celebrities”. I don’t know if anything might have come of my stand-up had I stuck with it. At the time, I was waiting tables during the day and serving cocktails in the evenings and doing comedy on my nights off. I was getting tired of hanging out in clubs every night between work and comedy. Eventually, I was invited to take my comedy on the road for my first paying gigs. I was so excited until I learned the travel conditions. I would be traveling by car with three other comedians (all men) and would also have to share hotel rooms with them. They were nice guys, but I decided I had come to the end of my comedy days. I’m glad I did it while it lasted. It was great fun and extremely therapeutic for my ADHD.
Another great benefit of my ADHD was my ability to throw myself into my work. When I became bored at work, I would come up with ideas about how to streamline production, or create projects for myself to go above and beyond the call of duty. I was a master multi-tasker and problem solver and I could easily lose myself in research projects (the down side was that I sometimes rubbed people the wrong way and I was very stubborn about doing things my way and I had a hard time compromising). I was and still am very good at brainstorming, especially when working with someone who can guide the application of ideas into concrete realities.
So now I am taking medication and will from time to time blog about my progress here. I will also tell stories of my life with ADHD before and after medication. Strangely, I am not sure why I've decided to share this particular part of my life publicly. I'm generally a private person and I cannot imagine sharing physical and emotional details of my life here, or details of my spiritual life. For some reason, I feel the need to share on this topic.
I have ADHD, so you can expect that I might jump around from situation to situation, subject to subject, perhaps never having any concern for chronological order, or even continuity. If you are interested enough to read about someone with ADHD, well that will be the case always and sometimes and occasionally never. Thanks for being here.
Finally medicated, I’ve decided to write about my daily life with ADHD, both past and present. I’ve always suspected that I have ADHD, but have, for the most part been able to deal with it in different ways. My ADD worsens when I am under stress, or sometimes even when I am nervous or excited. In hindsight, I can see where/when my ADHD has caused me to fail and other times when it has benefited me. Yes, you read that right; benefited.
For the last few years I’ve been under a great deal of stress and my ADD has caused my life to become unmanageable. Slowly, but surely, I am finding balance and learning how to deal with this (and other things in my life) in a healthy way.
I am not a clinician, or any kind of medical professional, just a woman trying to live with ADHD.
*dramatic, harmonized chime here*
These are my stories.
Last year my daughter was diagnosed with ADHD; predominately inattentive, though she has her hyperactive moments too. Being so young, her hyperactive moments tend to manifest almost as tics. When she would get excited too quickly, she would let out a loud scream and suddenly be afraid, as she also has sensitivity to loud noises even her own. She had trouble in school in just about every subject and was forgetful, fidgety and talkative in class.
My husband and I began our own research on the internet and came to the conclusion it was time to get a professional opinion. Our pediatrician (who is our champion) diagnosed her with ADHD; predominately inattentive, started her on medication and increased the dosage gradually. We saw the difference in her behaviors soon after and then, a month after starting medication, she moved three reading levels up at school. Since then, it’s difficult to pull her away from her books.
Once my daughter was diagnosed, I knew I wanted to be tested as well. Having some other health issues, my doctor was careful and slow to add a new medication to my regime, though there was no doubt about my diagnosis. Being new on the medication, the only change I’ve noticed so far is feeling less overwhelmed and more motivated to start on projects I couldn’t deal with before.
I continue to be excited about my new journey, but I will admit that I worry I might miss the fun parts of my ADHD. I suppose that this is a common worry with any behavioral disorder; the fear of medication changing the good things. Doctors say no, but I think it’s a valid concern. It’s hard to know where one’s creativity and talents stem from, where the roots took hold. For me, those answers continue to unfold.
I think that much of my sense of humor came from rapid cognitive dissonance, which rather than remain uncomfortable, I chose to play with the conflict in my own mind. This was very entertaining to me and often to people around me. Laughter is a good drug.
In the nineties, I wrote stream of consciousness type journals every day and used my writing to create a stand-up comedy act. I did alright with it – I wasn’t horrible at it. I had the opportunity to open for a few… eh, let’s call them “semi-celebrities”. I don’t know if anything might have come of my stand-up had I stuck with it. At the time, I was waiting tables during the day and serving cocktails in the evenings and doing comedy on my nights off. I was getting tired of hanging out in clubs every night between work and comedy. Eventually, I was invited to take my comedy on the road for my first paying gigs. I was so excited until I learned the travel conditions. I would be traveling by car with three other comedians (all men) and would also have to share hotel rooms with them. They were nice guys, but I decided I had come to the end of my comedy days. I’m glad I did it while it lasted. It was great fun and extremely therapeutic for my ADHD.
Another great benefit of my ADHD was my ability to throw myself into my work. When I became bored at work, I would come up with ideas about how to streamline production, or create projects for myself to go above and beyond the call of duty. I was a master multi-tasker and problem solver and I could easily lose myself in research projects (the down side was that I sometimes rubbed people the wrong way and I was very stubborn about doing things my way and I had a hard time compromising). I was and still am very good at brainstorming, especially when working with someone who can guide the application of ideas into concrete realities.
So now I am taking medication and will from time to time blog about my progress here. I will also tell stories of my life with ADHD before and after medication. Strangely, I am not sure why I've decided to share this particular part of my life publicly. I'm generally a private person and I cannot imagine sharing physical and emotional details of my life here, or details of my spiritual life. For some reason, I feel the need to share on this topic.
I have ADHD, so you can expect that I might jump around from situation to situation, subject to subject, perhaps never having any concern for chronological order, or even continuity. If you are interested enough to read about someone with ADHD, well that will be the case always and sometimes and occasionally never. Thanks for being here.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
A note I wrote a few years back. Made me laugh this morning.
Last night at Open House, Quinn was showing me around her classroom and pointed to some writing projects on the walls and said "For some reason my teacher always hangs my work in the corner..." Her teacher overheard this and looked embarrassed, so (being true to my usual strangeness) I immediately said "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
The teacher looked at me, confused, so I said "that was from Dirty Dancing..." she looked even more confused then, so I added "...the movie..." at which point she began to look disgusted. Then it dawned on me that she wasn't familiar with the movie. Oh c'mon, at her age she should have seen this movie at least 20 times, lip syncing along with Johnny and Baby and the rest of us: "Baaaybaaay oooooh oooooh baaaaybaaay, my sweet baaaaaybaaaay, you're the one..."
Determined, I said "Dirty Dancing is the very popular movie from the eighties that starred Patrick Swayze." Finally, she said "Oh yeah, I know the movie." She didn't. There was an awkward silence.
So of course, in a loud sigh I said "Nobody puts Baby in a corner...", which I think scared the teacher, but made Quinn giggle. I love Quinn.
My job here is done.
The teacher looked at me, confused, so I said "that was from Dirty Dancing..." she looked even more confused then, so I added "...the movie..." at which point she began to look disgusted. Then it dawned on me that she wasn't familiar with the movie. Oh c'mon, at her age she should have seen this movie at least 20 times, lip syncing along with Johnny and Baby and the rest of us: "Baaaybaaay oooooh oooooh baaaaybaaay, my sweet baaaaaybaaaay, you're the one..."
Determined, I said "Dirty Dancing is the very popular movie from the eighties that starred Patrick Swayze." Finally, she said "Oh yeah, I know the movie." She didn't. There was an awkward silence.
So of course, in a loud sigh I said "Nobody puts Baby in a corner...", which I think scared the teacher, but made Quinn giggle. I love Quinn.
My job here is done.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Lost Beast Big Hope
I look to understand
This beast
As it devours me
It meets my stare
With apathy and ignorance
I wonder if it will realize it’s own hunger someday
I realize… I do not speak beast
I am injured
And relieved simultaneously
I release this beast with love and hope
This beast
As it devours me
It meets my stare
With apathy and ignorance
I wonder if it will realize it’s own hunger someday
I realize… I do not speak beast
I am injured
And relieved simultaneously
I release this beast with love and hope
Sunday, July 17, 2011
New Spring (glimpse of a short story in progress)
It is come. She has been asleep so long that she cannot rightfully orient herself with the day or time, but is finally pulled up by her instincts and maybe something more. She is a bear, waking from long hibernation. Limbs are stiff; she stretches. She notices that her hair has grown quite long and pulls it up on the top of her head and ties it into a temporary knot. The strong smell of new buds entices her out into the garden. Falling on her knees, she draws in the Spring air, still crisp with moisture, and laughs quietly. After running her fingers over the dew soaked grasses, she forcefully pierces the sacred ground with her bare hand and retrieves a fistful of the mythical soil. As it slips loosely through her open fingers, a single golden larva catches the morning light. She takes it gently between her teeth and bends her neck far back, delivering the worm to the sky and waits for the phoenix to accept it. This is her offering.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Ghost
Looming universe and by chance find
Likely coincidence, two souls in need
There was no beginning; we were simply in the fire
As if a trance took me through
How sultry and shocked and stirred I emerged
You, cool in the moment
Lured me to play outside my limits
This made me love you and trust you effortlessly
Untouched, I have been warmer with you
Restrained, I am open
Light-headed, I consider my circumstance
And consequence
I can only imagine the smell of your neck, cradling my face
Your breath on my ear
In my mind we dance and I sing to you softly
My voice mostly air on your shoulder, burning your collar
Lyrics I have known and new words for these seconds
New language born in melody and passion and pounding measure
I imagine a powerful draw between us… among other aching things
Our bodies moving together in rhythm, twisting and leaning
Hands free to explore and give touch
We write it all out and stretch ourselves out in it; bathe in it
Experience
I know you take pleasure in me, though I am only a
Ghost in your mind; a dream that fades
And I do not agree to this
I am here, drunk with sensation, knowing
You will never take me in with your eyes
Taste my tears on your tongue
Still, they are no less true
Unfinished longing and curious acts of affections left
Hanging in a empty room
A corporeal touch ever only a notion
These things I acknowledge
Yet in early hours of the morning, when we hide
In the arms of other lovers
I am here alive, mouthing airy words, half asleep
Burning the dark
Lyrics I have known and new words for these seconds
Likely coincidence, two souls in need
There was no beginning; we were simply in the fire
As if a trance took me through
How sultry and shocked and stirred I emerged
You, cool in the moment
Lured me to play outside my limits
This made me love you and trust you effortlessly
Untouched, I have been warmer with you
Restrained, I am open
Light-headed, I consider my circumstance
And consequence
I can only imagine the smell of your neck, cradling my face
Your breath on my ear
In my mind we dance and I sing to you softly
My voice mostly air on your shoulder, burning your collar
Lyrics I have known and new words for these seconds
New language born in melody and passion and pounding measure
I imagine a powerful draw between us… among other aching things
Our bodies moving together in rhythm, twisting and leaning
Hands free to explore and give touch
We write it all out and stretch ourselves out in it; bathe in it
Experience
I know you take pleasure in me, though I am only a
Ghost in your mind; a dream that fades
And I do not agree to this
I am here, drunk with sensation, knowing
You will never take me in with your eyes
Taste my tears on your tongue
Still, they are no less true
Unfinished longing and curious acts of affections left
Hanging in a empty room
A corporeal touch ever only a notion
These things I acknowledge
Yet in early hours of the morning, when we hide
In the arms of other lovers
I am here alive, mouthing airy words, half asleep
Burning the dark
Lyrics I have known and new words for these seconds
Unfinished
Almost
He speaks lyrics. She takes code
Raw skin begs experience. Invokes a girl she was
New breath, thrive. Fine and frozen out of mind
Sweet somethings and secrets. Unrelated realities ignite.
Unwhispered deceit is no less a lie; recoil
Unseen, she recalls courage. Chill hope for warmth
Need to let forth; give
Opens and melts for him. They give and pull and give…
Clocks tick and silence
He is changed… distant. Comprehends fear
Pallid cries, borrowed words
Heavy space and slow motion killer; wavering
Actual blows would sting her less
Throatily, vibration formed words; ought
Glimpses and failed attempts exhaust his intent
Separation occurs. Reason returns wounded
There was always distance, though the importance different
Abruptly, he appears content
She questions her sanity, the weight of her thoughts
Resents his stability
Invisible from one another, they go
In tribes along cold rivers; stagger
Scars resemble autumn, colorful and temporary; salient
As great songs exist for singing, almost-love stories write themselves short
Render an empty audience. The pen but a hostage
As also a heart
He speaks lyrics. She takes code
Raw skin begs experience. Invokes a girl she was
New breath, thrive. Fine and frozen out of mind
Sweet somethings and secrets. Unrelated realities ignite.
Unwhispered deceit is no less a lie; recoil
Unseen, she recalls courage. Chill hope for warmth
Need to let forth; give
Opens and melts for him. They give and pull and give…
Clocks tick and silence
He is changed… distant. Comprehends fear
Pallid cries, borrowed words
Heavy space and slow motion killer; wavering
Actual blows would sting her less
Throatily, vibration formed words; ought
Glimpses and failed attempts exhaust his intent
Separation occurs. Reason returns wounded
There was always distance, though the importance different
Abruptly, he appears content
She questions her sanity, the weight of her thoughts
Resents his stability
Invisible from one another, they go
In tribes along cold rivers; stagger
Scars resemble autumn, colorful and temporary; salient
As great songs exist for singing, almost-love stories write themselves short
Render an empty audience. The pen but a hostage
As also a heart
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Saturday, March 12, 2011
NYTimes Issues Half-arse Apology
Response letter from change.org:
Dear Jennifer,
Big news! After a massive outcry from more than 40,000 Change.org members -- which led to news coverage in the Huffington Post, Village Voice, and even London’s Daily Mail -- New York Times public editor Arthur S. Brisbane has issued a strong rebuke of the victim-blaming in a recent article by reporter James McKinley about the gang-rape of an 11-year-old girl and her community's response.
Brisbane wrote said that the outrage was "understandable" and that the piece conveyed "an impression of concern for the perpetrators and an impression of a provocative victim" that "led many readers to interpret the subtext of the story to be: she had it coming."
The apology isn’t perfect -- it decries the lack of "balance," as if the paper should be providing equal voice to the concerns of the victims and her alleged attackers. And unfortunately, while the story ran in section "A" of the Times, Brisbane’s commentary showed up only online, not in his weekly column.
But because the Times is so high-profile, this condemnation still sends an important message to reporters all around the U.S. that readers will hold them accountable for insinuating that victims are somehow responsible for playing a role in their own sexual assaults. And you made this happen.
We have much more to do together as we fight for the rights and security of women everywhere, but we’re proving we can make real progress. If there’s a campaign you’d like to start, click here to create your own petition:
http://www.change.org/start-a-
Thanks for taking action,
Shelby and the Change.org team
Monday, February 21, 2011
Deep Canyons
I swallowed my worries in syrupy spoonfuls
Serving no purpose, I gave them power
Baffled, I punished my thoughts…
…until they were raised and red
I breathed and waited for a sign from the godless sky
You were dissolving in the water
Shame runs fast in deep canyons
You sacrificed me; risked my last bits of peace
I watched you decide…
…my pain was a fine trade for borrowed time
I breathed and waited for a sign from the godless sky
Moved on
Dragged my broken armor behind me…
…it is my hope
I am a ghost waved away like smoke
I am a ghost that you haunt from time to time
I breathed and waited for a sign from the godless sky
A quiet passage opened and I moved on
I have embraced the silence…
…despite the blisters and the blindness
This hope is deep
I have still a long way to go
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Margaret
Dear my public-diary:
Last August when school started, I set my phone alarm to the ungodly hour of 5:30am as I am not a morning person and need to be yanked out of REM well before being gently coaxed from my bed. This gave me enough time to have a cup of coffee before helping the banshees get ready for school and make the bus each morning. A few months ago we were running late and I decided to drive the girls to school instead of frantically panicking trying to run out in the dark, forgetting things that get forgotten under such circumstances and setting an all around wrong mood in which to start the day. Since the school is just five minutes away, we didn’t need to leave until 7:30am, which gave us about 40 extra minutes in the morning and lowered the stress level for the entire lot of us. Of course, from that day forward I have been driving the kids to school and enjoying the less stressful mornings and sleeping just a little longer than I was before.
Unfortunately, due to technical difficulties, I have been unable to change the alarm on my phone, which I have since named Margaret (the alarm, not the phone – who would name a phone?). Margaret was set on a ring/vibrate mode that was utterly obnoxious and served the purpose of waking me with a jolt of fear, lasting just long enough to find the STOP button and for Husband to grunt and sigh many times before his alarm was set to go off 30 minutes later at 6am (this is the time that we should be waking up now that we are car-riders). Each day we go through this shocking awakening at 5:30, me feeling around desperately for my phone then trying to focus my eyes enough to turn Margaret off and finally, both Husband and me yanking the blankets back up over our heads to capture a few more precious moments of sleep.
This is a good time for me to mention that Husband despises Margaret. In fact, he hates her so much he refuses to acknowledge her by name. Can you imagine?
At this point, you must be wondering (like Husband) why I have not made a greater effort to silence Margaret, or change her settings to wake me at a later time, to just find my phone manual and look up the steps necessary to do the job. The truth is that I feel that Margaret has become a part of our lives. I could never just silence her completely without feeling that something is missing - and who am I to change her? Would it even still be Margaret? I just don’t think I can do that to her. I know I know it is a real pain in the head to be punched out of a sweet dream by her incessant screeching-buzzing, or worse, to hear such noises inside my dreams and be shaken awake by Husband telling me to kill that racket. But Margaret has made a place in this world. She knows just who she is and what she is here for. That’s more than most can say and I respect that about her. Margaret is so stable and so reliable with her Monday through Friday duties – she even wakes us when my phone is powered off, if you can believe that. I admit I am a little inspired by Margaret. She sets a good example for me in her little energizer-bunny-sort of way. I want that.
Another sweet thing about Margaret is that she never asks for anything in return. Her love is unconditional and consistent. Something we could all take a lesson in from time to time. Come to mention it, I’d bet that Margaret would be willing to teach others how it’s done. Of course you’d have to sleep on the floor at the foot of my bed, next to Pup-pup in order to get a good view of Margaret’s magic. If you’re awake to see her go off, you can almost see the pride in which she does her job. The brightness of her flashing screen and the intensity with which she pulsates nearly moves her off of the nightstand. It is a truly magnificent talent.
So now you must understand my reasons for leaving Margaret just as she is; my little dancing, singing, slap-in-my-morning-face. How rarely we encounter such amazing characters in life. I am blessed.
O, Margaret, I love you! Don’t ever change!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)