Two bad batches of coffee this morning. My bride and I are, naturally, devastated.
Watered Down Coffee

Two bad batches of coffee this morning. My bride and I are, naturally, devastated.

Mother’s Day has me thinking about courage and decisions. Say what you will about instinct, at the end of the day it is a choice to be a parent. A courageous choice and one worthy of admiration. I’ve been blessed with a pair of wonderful role models.
Happy Mother’s Day.

Inspired by Chris Hemsworth’s newest portrayal of Thor in Avengers: Endgame and the wonderful problem of being flush with opportunities. Time to decide which are worth inviting to stay.

Didn’t post it yesterday but I did write it! Today’s poem will be published later.
I originally thought I might do something significant for the hundredth day of poetry, but then I realized, it’s just another day. A benchmark to be sure, but the journey of a creative is one that doesn’t end just because a milestone is reached or a single project finished. We keep on.
Yesterday I found myself grateful for the blessing of new opportunities, of regaining my momentum, and of having reached a major benchmark in another project. It got me thinking about how much effort it is to create something and how easy it is to destroy. It all boils down to keeping on and working within a system that is designed to challenge us and to be unfair. Life is a perpetual battle against entropy.

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.

Today’s lesson: don’t wait for inspiration to come to you. Make it yourself.

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.

I hate not feeling well. It’s like there’s a disconnect between my brain and the rest of my facilities that makes the entire creative machine malfunction. Hard to think, you know? So I’m feeling especially pleased with myself for cranking today’s poem out in spite of that.
