Not sure what prompted these thoughts. Life seems to love kicking us when we’re down and people who have been hurt seem more susceptible to being hurt again through no fault of their own. The best we can do is simply keep on going and be kind to one another. It continues to amaze me the simple power of kindness. Let’s share it as much as possible, shall we?
Had a thunderstorm roll in last night. It was pretty neat.
I got caught off guard by somethings that turned my head around. It’s taken me a little bit to get it back on straight. I missed two days of poetry, picked myself up, and have continued writing, if not posting as I should.
The purpose of this blog is accountability for creativity. Thank you and Wild respect to my wonderful bride for reminding me of that. The backlog is to follow shortly.
All that said, time is such a tricky thing. It is so easy both to do and to miss so much in the span of a single day. Blink and you’ll miss it.
I went to the park to walk my dog and de-stress from the day. It was a good day, just long and hard and I needed to unwind with my puppy.
The park backs up to some houses, one of which has a fence that is incomplete. The people who live there have a pair of dogs. They’ve gotten out before and caused some minor mischief, nothing serious. They got out again today and chased my dog, who chased them back. The woman who lives in the house came out screaming and cussing at me, furious that I dare walk my dog past her house and get her dogs riled up.
I have no idea why this bothers me as much as it does. It could be any number of combinations of things. This year, is a year of transformation and I think that right now I’m experiencing some growing pains.
Here’s to hope, to love, and to growth.
Wait, Day 97? What happened to 96?
I missed it.
No excuse, I had an opportunity to do it during my break at work and I passed on. After that, when I got home I crashed. Hard. Been trying to do so much lately. Not the point.
I am proud that it took me 96 days before is missed a poem. New goal: try to go the rest of the year without missing another one. If I am to miss another, try to beat my 96 day streak.
Today’s poem is inspired by missing yesterday’s. I couldn’t tell you why Neverland and Peter Pan popped into my head, exactly, though in this context it certainly makes sense. Those stories are really depressing and downright frightening at their heart. Missed and stolen opportunities.
A piece of me mourns the loss of yesterday’s poem. It will never be written, never grow up, or go on adventures. It won’t even get to die because it was never born. Simply missed. An adventure not taken, an opportunity not explored. On the other hand, I am taking to heart why this is so valuable to me. The pursuit of dreams, seeing beauty realized and brought to fruition. Here is a rededication to never stop chasing the shine.
I had lunch with my sister today and got to glimpse a sliver of her life. She took me to a small restaurant hidden beneath downtown Houston that I never would have know was there. It got me thinking of the places, and memories, that we collect and how they define a piece of our existence and how eager, and terrified, we are to share them.
I was talking to my bride this morning and she told me about how a nutritionist blogger’s post stirred up a powerful emotional reaction in people. One of the most common responses to her post, apparently, was some variation of “don’t tell us what to do.”
That’s the battle cry for every US citizen, isn’t it? We are a nation of rebels and independent spirits–this is the cornerstone of our cultural identity. It’s why the American Revolution is such an all encompassing focus in our history classrooms.
The newest generations born into this tradition have an absolutely wonderful problem: “What do we rebel against?”
For all of its many problems and our nostalgia, the world has never been a better place and it’s getting better. It’s not perfect, but it IS improving. American citizens born into this world have less to struggle against and with no clear opposition or enemy, many turn upon each other and the previous generations, with whom there is a growing technological and cultural gap.
It is not my intention to villainize the younger generations–far from it. I sympathize. Ours is a nation of rebels, we bring our children up to be rebels, and there’s no clear enemy to rebel against or cause to fight for. The quest now is finding our cause, and it’s not an easy one because finding a cause to truly believes means finding yourself.
Had a special moment with my bride where we experienced a concrete visualization of our goals. Less beautiful was the place than the moment with my favorite person in the world.
I had tea the other day with a man who told me he’d been married three times. He said this in jest, and clarified that he meant that his wife had grown as a person and a woman throughout their marriage and how fortunate he was to have been a part of her journey and to share his life with her. I thought it was a beautiful sentiment and so we have today’s poem.
Another examination of visceral sensation accompanying an emotion. Inspired by my own anticipation–I had my first meeting with my new editor last night and am meeting a new acquaintance later today. I’ve never considered myself particularly good with people and meeting new people is always difficult for me. So, I’m throwing myself into it. Wish me luck!
The Everyday Poet 