Monthly Archives: March 2019

For my Friends – Roland

“Please write more,” he texted, and you know, it’s the internet.
I can read that that like he misses me and just wants more contact,
Or I can read that like a drowning man who needs me for guidance.
Nothing is really reliable in text, everything and anything is possible
And in my life of reading rejection into people that haven’t actually rejected me
I find it safer to just not guess
And do what he asks.

I’m in a weird place nowadays

The scars which have defined me have mostly, truly, honest-to-god, faded.
Which means I’m now in this open space, dancing, and I have to figure out what that means.

I mean…this is not a ballet body.

I’ve always been more of a slam dancer, belly dancer, pole dancer
And like every other form of dance, so much of it depends on the rhythm.
So many rhythms in this world.

And I have to choose which one I’m going to hear.

There’s so many, really,
From Indifference to Hatred to Love.
But that’s not really what this is about.

I’ve discovered a new form of damage which is super ironic.

In the past my damage was focused on “my feelings don’t matter,”
And a lot of that has really been resolved. My feelings DO matter.
In fact, if you’re reading this, they probably matter to YOU, which is nice.
It’s nice to know that people really DO care about how I feel,
That they don’t want me to hurt
That they enjoy my laughter or my insight.
Which is awesome…when suddenly this amazingly bizarre damage comes out of nowhere.

It tells me I don’t exist.

This is crazy, even to me. I KNOW that I exist.

One reason I know I exist is because I matter to you
that couldn’t happen if I didn’t exist, right?
But there’s this weird kind of doubt and sudden anger, even rage, that happens around
Not being heard
Not being seen
Being ignored
Not being given physical space
Being spoken over
Having my “No” disregarded
Having my opinion glossed over….

You know, for a while I just thought that this was just part of being a woman.
I tried to tell my therapist that,
That being a woman is to constantly be tuned out, glossed over,
But she says it’s this deeper wound I’ve got.

I thought she was wrong.

But then I started looking at the things that infuriate me.
Having to repeat myself over and over
Being ignored when I’m standing RIGHT THERE
People expecting me to move when they’re inconveniencing me
just as much as I’m inconveniencing them
(Why am *I* always expected to move?
Why am I less important than the other person, always?)
Being interrupted
Being run over even when I protest
Being asked my opinion, and then having that opinion discounted as unimportant

and I want to scream,

“I’M RIGHT HERE! I’M RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU! CAN’T YOU SEE ME?
WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

……But I’m not so sure I’d be heard.

I’m afraid I’ll find out I’m a ghost of some kind

That I’m really NOT here.

It’s crazy, I know. I can see my hands in front of me.
I require food and clothing, I work and work gets done.
I teach, and people learn. I smile and people smile back.

But sometimes, I wonder if I’m just deluding myself,
And I wonder if I’m even here.

My therapist says, “On a scale of one to ten, how stressful is the phrase, “I don’t exist?”

“Oh, it’s an eight,” I say…and I don’t understand how that can be
when I’m sitting right there
having a conversation.

This is new damage.

I don’t really understand it, but I know I’m feeling it, and like everything else
If I feel it, someone out there is feeling it too.

So if you wonder if you exist sometimes, I do too.
(I mean, I wonder if *I* exist, not if you do. I’m pretty sure you do.)
So you’re not alone or anything.

I can’t promise we’re not crazy, but I can promise

You’re not alone.

But I’m guessing that
if you ask me to write more, you must see me
so I must be here.

Ostara 2019

A friend reminded me it’s time to post for Ostara, so blessings to you all.

In dealing with our students and watching the season change, the lesson I’m learning now is that new beginnings aren’t enough. Sure the earth is turning, seeds are sprouting, plants are budding…and it’s beautiful and fresh and green and fine…we always talk about that around this time of year. “Spring is new beginnings,” we say, Fresh Starts, Spring Cleaning…all of those things. And it IS those things, no question.

But all of those things have a common theme we don’t really mention because it’s subtle and underneath it all. Vulnerability.

New beginnings of all kinds are almost always adventures in vulnerability. The grass shoots that just start showing are thinner and finer and a paler shade of yellow/green. Buds are often referred to as “tender.” Infants are at their most helpless. I mean, maybe we don’t talk about that because it’s frightening to be vulnerable, or maybe we don’t talk about it because it’s so much part of our consciousness that we don’t think it needs to be said. I feel like it does.

I feel like, if we’re going to change our ways, as individuals, as a culture, as a planet, we have to accept that the beginning is always vulnerable. We make mistakes, we are worried about how we are viewed, if we will be ridiculed, or even something simple like, “will I have the strength to follow through on this new habit I’m trying to create?” That’s a legit thing, a legit fear. But we cannot let it stop us from our new beginnings, whatever they are.

The ability to be vulnerable is, ironically, a strength. Only the strongest of us are willing to be so. It comes from a knowledge that we are always safe, really. When you love the people you are with you can share your vulnerabilities with them, but if you don’t love yourself it can be hard to look in the mirror sometimes.

I’m watching the people I love grow and change and it is beautiful. Watching them reach beyond who they were towards who they want to be, even if it frightens them, even if they aren’t sure they will succeed, and it is beautiful and brave. There is always next time, I say, we can repeat these things until they become instinct, until they change our patterns of behavior for the better but, like any garden, we have to water it, we have to nurture it, talk to it, sometimes prune off the bits that aren’t healthy. We have to participate in our own growth process if we really want to sprout and move. Sure, you can let it be what comes naturally, there is a wild beauty in that as well…but if you get involved the growth becomes phenomenal, the change is transformative. I guess that’s the difference…one is Growth, the other is Transformation. And you can choose. Choose who you want to be.

But in order to do that, the first step is to really take that chance on being vulnerable, on being tender and new. The whole world does it, it’s okay. The important thing to remember is that every new seed that sprouts is really primarily rooted underground. No matter how new and gentle they are, there is a life underneath that is safe and protected. You are always nurtured by the things that ground you, whether that is your friends, your family, your home, your job, your ancestors, your Self. You are always surrounded and protected by those things. They will not disappear just because you stuck a finger outside of your bubble. These things that ground you, that you have built your foundation on, they will always be there.

But you have the opportunity to be more, do more, experience more. Now is your time. Accept that Vulnerability will be a part of it no matter when you do it. It will always be a part of it, don’t let it stop you. Beautiful things are waiting for you. Terrible things too. But even when the terrible things strike, you will still be surrounded by the things that ground you, and you will adapt. You are safe. You have always been safe. You just didn’t believe it before.

Believe it now. Believe that we are here and loving and supporting you. That your family, whether that is from genetics or choice, is here to support you. And maybe you didn’t know this, but we are so moved and so joyful to watch you move in this way, to see you expand and become more than who you were. We are actually watching and waiting for you, watering you every day, nurturing your environment, and looking for those tender shoots to come above ground so we can celebrate with you.

This Ostara, my wish for you is that you recognize that your vulnerabilities are beautiful, so very beautiful and human, and that they give you the gift of compassion. I wish that you don’t let them stop you from that new thing you want to do or try. I wish that, if that new thing fails, that you recognize you can just try some other new thing at any time, and that vulnerability and failure aren’t something to avoid anymore. They are indicators of growth and evolution. Hell, if you try something and fail and get up and do it again over and over, it’s bound to become a habit eventually. Like my friend always repeats, “Fall down seven, get up eight.”

I wish that you grow, and that your growth goes smoothly and joyfully.

Blessed Ostara to you.