State of Obvious

For George I see him in the trees Tall and strong, gangly limbs that try to touch the sky “Be strong,” they say “Stand tall,” they tell me “Reach.” I see him in the river Always moving, changing fast, full of stories “Keep going,” it rumbles “Cut new paths,” it beckons “Search.” I see him in the birds The cunning hawk, the splendid eagle, the curious sparrow “Fly farther,” they call “Hunt far and wide,” they sing “Soar.” I see him in adobe In the gentle carvings of a rough, strong hand In quiet rooms of light In many windows facing east To sunrise.

There once was a pirate named Steve. He was quite nice, as pirates go, and liked to run (or shall I say, hop) all about town shouting out things like: "Arr! There be me favorite silver spoon!" and "Arrggh!  I've lost me contact lens!" I didn't say he was a good pirate. Anyhow, one day Steve was out and about, hopping here and there, when suddenly his patch fell off.  His eye - where else would he have a patch?  The onlookers were shocked to see that Steve had a wooden eye behind that patch.  It was rolling around in the socket, slivers of wood blinking like splintery eyelashes as he fumbled for his lost patch.  One of the shocked onlookers took pity on poor pirate Steve and picked up the patch with two skinny fingers.  Her name was Delly - the helpful onlooker, not the patch. "I've found your patch," she said, helpfully, dangling the patch in front of Steve's good, non-splintery eye. "Me patch?!" said Steve, reaching for ...

I, along with much of the world, have been thinking about my goals for the coming year.  I made a list and it was pretty broad, but also pretty do-able.  On purpose.  The one thing that bothers me when these resolutions roll around is just how full of failure they are, often by implication or by comparison to the list from last year.  We (general society we) often laugh because we only made it a few hours, days, weeks, months into our resolutions.  And then we fall back into old habits.  We (that general we again) forget just how hard it is to change ourselves.  Have you ever tried to reshape a rock?  That's us, right there, rocks.  Round and hard and set in stone.  But, changeable over time. This year I made my list AFTER I thought about my successes from last year.  I did not bother recounting my failures, though there were assuredly many.  Instead, I looked back (as objectively as I could) and decided it really wasn't so...

I know you all wait the whole year for this special post.  Let me assure you, this year it's really good.  Unattainable, but good.  Without further ado, my Christmas list: 1. A new sofa, something sort of like this: This isn't exactly right, because I'd also like it to have recliners - but I don't want an overstuffed, lumpy back end looking sofa.  Basically, it probably doesn't exist and if it does, I certainly can't afford it.  But, Carly keeps asking for a Barbie dream house too, so I figure why not aim high? Santometer says: Even you know it's not possible. 2. This, so much this:  In the interest of full disclosure, I shall disclose that I had a Ford Edge before.  And it was my most very favorite car that I've ever owned/driven/ridden in.  I hope to someday repeat the experience.  Hopefully this whole educating myself to get a job plan will yield one in the future.  But if not...maybe a hotwheels version? Sa...

...has been a hard one for me.  For a lot of reasons, some of which I'll list (school, teaching, school, busy-ness, school...) and some of which I won't (........).  I'm tired.  To a degree that I have not experienced before.  They told me going in (to the first semester of a Master's Degree and Teacher Certification combined) that this one would be the hardest.  And it has been.  Not because of the classes - those haven't been that bad, actually.  But because of the amount of running around, planning, revising, running around some more, and missing my family that comes with those classes.  I just keep telling myself to hang in there, it's almost done, only a little longer, and so on.  And here I am at the end, still mostly in once piece. ...has been a season of grief.  Everywhere I look, I see people and things that I've lost.  Eric's mom, Ann, seems to be whispering in my ear.  I even dream about her on a regular basis. ...

I looked at you and I thought Oh, that's what this is. It's brimming over with pride, screaming inside with fear, falling all over myself, I'm sorry I said that, Can we start over, Green, blue, gold, And red. I looked at you and I thought How did we get here? This place where the words echo Flying between us like projectiles Sharp and sweet and smothering. When did we make that turn And suddenly arrive in new territory Where you are almost grown And I am running behind Trying to catch up. I looked at you and I thought I see me In your eyes, in your face, in your smile I see the puzzle pieces fit together But somewhat out of order And with landscapes I don't recognize Places I have Never been. I looked at you and I thought You are still mine. You will always be mine. These broken moments Are only fragments of what we are Who we are Who we can be Who we will be Together.

There is this moment when the thing we fear becomes like an animal in a cage.  We feed it, give it treats, reach into to steal a stroke, tease it, name it, watch it pace in front of the bars.  We get comfortable with it and begin to lose the tightness in our belly.  We begin to believe our feelings were not justified, that we were just being silly.  We begin to make friends with that animal in the cage and we decide to let it out, to see if it has suddenly become civilized.  Inevitably, it has not and then comes the bloody, broken mess on the floor that we have to clean up even as we know we created the mess and we don't want to see that thing we've let loose.  And we have to put it back in the cage, the struggle ensues, and we are irrevocably scarred by the experience only to begin the process again. Lately I seem to be reading, talking, thinking, talking, watching, talking about inclusion and diversity.  As if one of those things is somehow more va...