On the Age of Princesses and Pirate Ships

It was like listening to herself babble away in the backseat,

About nothing, and everything.

“Mommy made me wear these to, what is that thing called when

Someone dies? Yeah, a funeral, that’s it.”

I must have said something to that effect ten years ago.

It was like watching herself discover pop music for the first time,

As they listened to Taylor Swift.

“On a bandview in somedale.” “On a balcony in summer air.”

I like this song. God her songs are sad.

“Do you like this song just because it mentions the seven dwarves?”

I didn’t even notice it mentioned the seven dwarves “Yes.”

It was like reliving the innocent days,

As they talked over a cappuccino and a hot chocolate,

About how boys are gross,

Video games and kissing and all that, gross. Yeah…you. just. wait.

She gets home and half expects to see her
eight year old self in the mirror

because she’s been living in a pre-adolescent memory all afternoon.

She thinks back to the movie theater, the blue-raspberry slushie,

To the kids section of the book store,

To the song playing on the radio.

There’s a reason the song goes,

Don’t forget to look before you fall.

Not before you leap, but before you fall.

We’re all bound to. We all jump,

and we all fall. Blame it on gravity,

blame it on fate, or blame it on nothing

and embrace the impact as best you can.
Love the fall, because sometimes it will be all you've got.

Along with some nostalgia and a new-found appreciation

For the wooden toys her mother gave her (her fingers went numb

Trying to fit those silly plastic dolls in their silly rubber clothes.),

That was the take away.

Look before you fall.

She’s practically a grown-up now,

with responsibilities, with worries, with honest desires, with attainable dreams.

She knows that the Elf on the Shelf isn’t magical,

But my God, how she wishes it was.

She knows that childhood lenses shatter somewhere around adolescence,

            And she wishes she could save the young,

            Or at least prepare them for what lies ahead.

She can’t remember the day, month, or even exact year,

            When she made a devastating realization.

The world wasn’t on her side.

            No one could save her from what she’d do to herself.

Her childhood had evaporated.

            Christmas brought sadness, not presents,

            And it’d be that way for a while.

She’s in the middle of childhood naïveté

            And the vast bitterness of adulthood. 

            Neither quite here nor there.

She swears she won’t let the world get to her,

            But fears she’s beaten the world at that race.

But maybe it’s not so bad to see things for what they are--

            To recognize sadness and humor, grief and irony

            To feel disappointment is to appreciate love

            and all the rest of it just a bit more.

Besides, in one way or another, she’s still got parts of that sparkling youth.

She thinks she can do anything.

She thinks the world’s her canvas,

Because up until this point, it has been.

She’s tried and failed and healed and tried again,

And nothing’s ever stopped her.

She prays that it will always be this way,

That she can act with no regrets, forever.

That she can hit the target every shot she takes, forever.

She prays, but she still knows better.

She dreams the same way Children do.

The only difference is that she recognizes

The foolish parts.

She writes them off.

I’ll bounce back.

Or else deal with it when I’m really an adult.

But Children aren’t sophisticated enough to know

that someday the world won't be at their fingertips.

Someday they'll be hit hard, and it'll feel like

a ton of bricks, the weight of the world.

Someday they'll see more clearly, 

and someday they'll be scared of more than

just monsters under the bed.

They can't grasp the concept of growth and change,

And thank God for that.  

 And at her age,

all you have to do is reach out

and touch the world. 

At her age, it's all possible. 

It's all right there.

Photo Credit

2012 Election

This is an official blog entry for the YourLocalSecurity.com Blogging Scholarship. If selected, I'll receive $1000 towards my college expenses in 2012. This scholarship is sponsored by YourLocalSecurity.com

As Obama's presidency comes to a close, citizens across the nation, and around the world, will be carefully observing the 2012 electoral race. Many of the topics that we focused on during the last race will continue to come up, hot topics like health care, gay rights and abortion. We might see that others, like the war on terror, will simmer down, especially with the recent end to the war in Iraq.

The main topic of contention in the upcoming race, however, will have to do with economic policy. With our current national debt at 15 trillion (48,500 per person, according to Brillig.com) it's hard to imagine a bigger problem. But the debt itself isn't the root of it. The poison economic culture in the United States can be seen in a variety of different aspects of American life. The rising rates of obesity, the amount of waste we generate, the social and educational gaps that are apparent across towns and states, all these are products of an unstable economy.

History has shown that money affects culture more than we know. The fluctuating cost of gasoline causes families to reevaluate not just the cars they drive, but the routes they take, the schools they attend and much more. As the price of fresh foods spikes, so do the sales of cheaper meals from fast food restaurants. Poor diets, forced by low-incomes, lead to heart disease, diabetes and other health risks. When companies see drops in dollar signs, an obvious reaction can be to layoff employees, which presses even more stress on families and businesses nationwide. If we want a nation of healthy, happy individuals, we need to fix the economic standing of our entire country.

And so, we need a president who is going to lay out a plan. America needs organization. It needs a dynamic proposition that has one central target (economics), but a multitude of effects (health, environment, crime, family, business). The candidate who brings up convincing and clever solutions to strengthen our brittle economy will win. The individual who looks after the entire nation, and who does not divide us up by class nor region, will have the most success. The United States needs a president who does not see the colors red and blue, but rather someone who recognizes the interconnectedness of our nation. The best candidate will be the one who lays a groundwork for the future by proposing a plan that creates jobs, that invests in green technologies, that supports education, that brings back to life the prospects of an American dream, a dream we can achieve by getting off the couch, by getting our hands dirty, by working our own futures and by extension the future of our entire country. Our next president will realize the power of collaboration and cooperation,

Que Sera

Yesterday I posted about waiting and the feelings of futility and frustration that take over one as she waits by the mailbox. Or by her inbox.

Today, I'm optimistic. Enthusiastic. Hopeful. And all sorts of emotions with strong, positive associations.

Today, I have two options. (Well, we'll limit it to two) I can sit here in a pit of fear, with knots in my stomach, anxiously awaiting answers about what will be. It's risky to put yourself on the edge, to hit submit, to build yourself up in front of a person or an institution with no idea how they'll respond. I could pace the floor, mug the mailman, go insane.

But I won't. And here's why.

We have this theory in my house. Maybe it's not a theory, but rather a portion of our belief system. We like to say that whatever is meant to be, will be. Some think this is false comfort, that there's no such thing as fate. We don't agree.

When I was in middle school, I used to drive past this big, beautiful high school just up the road. It had a great reputation, academics, sports and the lot. I wanted that rigor. I wanted to go there. When it came time for high school, however, I decided to go away. My year in Farmington taught me a lot, and was worth the journey, but I knew I didn't belong there. I ended up transferring to that same school I'd thought about years earlier. The past three years have given me all I've wanted, and now I believe I was meant to end up in Lakeville. At Hotchkiss. But I also believe I needed that time away to learn just how much I could withstand before breaking. (Turns out, I can handle a lot... but that's not the point here.) It all worked out on its own. I barely planned for this multi-staged educational saga, and yet it played out just as it was supposed to.

Some may say this has nothing to do with fate or things "being what they're meant to be." And that's OK. See it for what you will. But with these pieces of my past, it's difficult for me to worry and fret about the future. Maybe it's naive to trust the way of things as much as I do. Maybe I should stress a little bit more and harass the mailman for my envelope, harass some computer programmer to hack the system a day early. But would it change the results in the short term? In the long term?
It wouldn't. So I won't.

Ultimately, we'll all get the results we're meant to get. I believe that. Now, this doesn't mean we can sit around and just wait for the universe to do its thing. It doesn't mean we can stop trying. We still have to apply for our coveted positions. We still have to present ourselves and make our wants clear. But we have to relax once our work is through. We deserve that much.

So, today I'll take the second option. I'll go out for coffee with a friend. I'll burn Christmas candles. I'll organize my sock drawer and read A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving. I'll probably get really anxious, understandably, around 3:00, so maybe I'll go for a run then.  I'll do my best not to think about things to come. I'll let it all unfold as its supposed to. Timing is everything. Most of the things I'm aiming for right now are out of my reach; the results cannot, to an extent, be determined by anything I can do in the next day, week, or month. I find comfort in the belief that whatever happens will be good, will be right. Whatever will be, will be. Que sera, sera.

I have too much to lose, she said, if I cross that line.

Like what? I said. 

She could not think of anything that day so she said she'd get back to me. 

Since then I've been thinking what I would lose if I cross my line.

I haven't come up with anything either. 

There's always another line somewhere. 

 

 

 

Quote credit: StoryPeople 

Photo credit: Random Photo Website 

 

Ditches

slowly she's getting used to that ditch
the one on the side of the road
where tires go
when they blow out --
scrap metal from car wrecks
scrapped up emotions,
from wrecks of another sort.

she don't mind it so much
as long as no one looks inside.
but she's hoping to get a ladder
or a rope of some kind
a hand reaching in to pull her out
drag her back to shore
she's sure she's not meant to rot
among these ditches.
she's got bigger plans than that.

Burden of Proof

She wants proof that the weight she carries will be worth it in the end. She believes it will. She confidently tells herself she's taken the right motions, swung and hit every time. Time will tell, will provide that proof. 

Been thinking a lot lately about social pressures, weights, things we deal with on a daily basis that never really reveal themselves until some huge news steps into play. How do we deal when we feel silenced? How does it feel to carry a heavier load than your body is equipped for? I don't know. But I do know that this picture I found of Mount Everest tells, pretty accurately, what I'm thinking.

The peaks are there, in plain sight. The sun's peaking its head out from behind the dark crags of the summit. It's a little distant, but surely there's something to be said for making it to the top.

From National Geographic- Himalayas

This is a giant block of whatever is most difficult for you to carry & trust me on this, you'll carry it more times than you can count until you decide that's exactly what you want to do most & then it won't weigh a thing anymore.

-From StoryPeople.com

This is a giant block of whatever is most difficult for you to carry & trust me on this, you'll carry it more times than you can count until you decide that's exactly what you want to do most & then it won't weigh a thing anymore.

-From StoryPeople.com

Awakening

         Here's a quote I found from StoryPeople, that I think really describes today's date in history.

In those days,
we finally chose
to walk like giants
& hold the world
in arms grown strong with love
& there may be many things we forget
in the days to come,
but this will not be one of them.

         I was eight when the Twin Towers were ambushed on 9/11/2001. Third graders don't usually receive too much in the way of current events, let alone terrorists. But this day mattered. I remember one girl complaining that she had to leave school; I was a bit confused myself, though relieved that my mom came in the middle of gym class. 

         She walked me and my brother home from our tiny school on the hill. We walked the mile distance, kicking rocks and staring up at the blue, completely cloudless, completely plane-less sky. Then we played baseball in the front yard. The sun shone so brightly. I breathed crisp air as I pitched a wiffle-ball to my five year old brother, who had even less of an idea than I did about the fate of the world. And rightly so.
         My mom kept running in to check the TV,  I suppose. This wasn't the norm in our family; I still can't think of a time when my mother sat down to deliberately watch a news program. I couldn't comprehend why my favorite shows were replaced with horrified newscasters. I didn't understand that the fall of those two buildings represented the attack of our entire country, of my home in small-town Connecticut, of the values we have been fed, on the independence we gained. 

         I can't remember it clearly, but they must have explained something to me on that day, in their protective, parenting way. What a task adults must have faced, trying to convey the gravity, while not scaring their children, or bursting into tears themselves. My heart breaks for those who lost their parents and loved ones in the crash. To be a victim of a problem so huge, so much larger than any individual, that's a tragedy.

         When I read quotations from those who were there, who saw it happen, I don't even know what to feel. Some kind of melancholy sickness, wrapped with a small layer of hope knowing that, although so many lost their lives, so many survived. The New York Times has an interactive page, where people can share where they were and what they thought. It helps to show just how atrocious, frightening, and impactful 9/11 was for people around the world.

         That kind of catastrophe can't be dealt with lightly. I don't want to get into the ways we handled it as a nation, but I am going to say this. Now, ten years later, I understand a bit more. Just a bit. I have seen enough to know that we face problems as a nation and as a global community. It's stomach-churning to think about the horror that exists. Memories of September 2001 should be revisited, but they should be accompanied with hope for the future. If we keep our heads straight, we'll fare well.



The News - Jack Johnson 

Stair Stepper (pt 4)

Read part 1 then part 2, followed by part 3, and then if you're still interested, read this:

         ...But you’ll also feel higher, in position and in mentality. It’s a queasy feeling, altitude sickness, perhaps, or overexertion. Nonetheless, it’s a high that you cannot ignore. When that next opportunity to jump arises, you check that your shoelaces are tied and push off with vigor. You struggle, but remember, if I did it once, I can do it again
         This mentality may work, but should be used with caution. Eventually our muscles thin and our bones break down. As time passes, we cannot handle the full climb. But our minds drive us to accelerate, to push through and just do it. 
         We keep moving up the belts, waving at those we surpass and grumbling about the individuals who always manage to stay a step ahead. And so, the distinct rungs of our society form. Much like the revolving belt at the airport, the escalator doesn’t care whether you’ve gathered your bags. It’s going to keep moving and climbing, so hold onto your hats and your competitive drive.

Photo is from this site

For now, that was the last part. If you've read them all, I'd love to hear your thoughts (preferably the positive ones, but criticisms keep me on my toes too.)

This post is about the future.

The future exists in those who believe in the power of their dreams. -Eleanor Roosevelt

Essentially: Our hopes and desires will be answered if we pay close attention to them. With ambition, we can shape our future.

 The future is called "perhaps," which is the only possible thing to call the future. And the important thing is not to allow that to scare you. -Tennessee Williams

In other words: Who the heck knows? It's not something to fear.

"Que Sera" by Wax Tailor, sampled from "Whatever Will Be, Will Be" sung by Doris Day

As for the future, just let it be. Live for today. Believe in the future. There's something coming, and when it does, we will greet it.

 We can fear it. We can pray for a better tomorrow. We can try to predict it. We can sit and let it wash over us like waves tickling our toes; we can sit and let our days slip by. We can plan, but when we do that, we risk disappointment and failure. Many men and women wiser than I have spoken profoundly about the future, its depth and its ambiguity. To me, the future seems much like a cake without a recipe: you put in the ingredients, the elements that will likely react. Then you add heat, work and effort. After accomplishing all this, you let it bake. You watch with fingers crossed and hope that your creation will rise to a delectable finish. If we're lucky, the future will be a beautiful pastry, a collaborative work of art, for all to enjoy.