Don’t Tell The High School Guidance Counselor I Said This

books little switzerland 2

I bought a calendar.

I thought that there might be some sort of freedom in being without one. Or was I trying to stretch my capacity for memorizing facts and dates.

I struggle with a faint fear of losing my memory one day. The one who bore me has dementia and it could be in me waiting to pounce.

Sometimes I write and I pause at a word and the word comes slower. So I write more and more. It’s as if a muscle is being worked in the gym of my mind.

I want my children to have my words when they don’t have my words any longer.

When I first started blogging I was determined to use the word I in my posts infrequently, verging on the never.

Today I am breaking my rule of no I’s in my posts. It is a selfish pronoun but it is necessary. I could shift to the third person but that would be silly because at this point you know it is me to whom I am referring.

Putting things on my calendar yesterday felt like a good and needed discipline. There is a tension in the space between spontaneous living and purposeful, intentional living out of days.

I see things less poetically if I am strapped down and bound by restraints of time and space. You know there is a quote about that, the poet is working when she is staring out the window. I need to look up who said it because it is true and brilliant. And it helps me understand where poetry is born.

If you have been reading here for awhile you know the focus on poetry. If you haven’t you can read the title of the blog and then you would know. I think poetry is saving me and giving me new eyes. Both.

Therefore, poetry is important.

There is a way of seeing the poetic in life which comes from breathing deep and walking slow. Of staring long into the places and moments of a day.

If I look out the window long enough I see the beautiful, not the dirt. And I long to write of the beautiful rather than reach for the Windex.

Yesterday I met with my daughter’s guidance counselor to go over her graduation plan. She was doing her job and she does it well.  We were making her schedule for next year and picking courses. This planning of my youngest’s senior year is heart wrenching work.

I starred at her blue eyes and drowned a little in the talk of college.

We talked of AP Spanish Four and of AP English too. Of her plans to be a Pediatric Dentist, of GPA’s and SAT’s and Class Rank. And I felt really hemmed in that office. And thought a bit about how things change.

And we are making plans so far ahead and so much can change. And I know that we need this dance of the deliberate and the planning out of a life.

But where is the dance of the poetic. And what if the dreams change or crash. What if her heart changes her mind.

We would walk in and write out a course change slip and off we would go to a new dream and a new class. Plans and changes of plans. The now and the surprise of tomorrow. The dance of uncertainty and the plans for a life well lived.

There is so much beauty in the savoring of now. And intentional living keeps wandering minds from going too far off track. And we need a plan and a dream and a schedule.

I dance between these two worlds daily.

I am off to work on my calendar and write down some important dates and plans and appointments and a writing schedule of sorts.

And I hope that I don’t lose my poetry along the way. I hope my dancing shoes don’t fall off. It has taken me a lifetime to learn to dance in a place of the poetic. And I don’t want to stop now.

The high school guidance counselor does important work. I am grateful for her and her ability to keep folks like me on track.

I wonder if she saw my mind wander a bit. But don’t tell her I said that. Sometimes the mention of SAT and Class Rank cause me to glaze over a bit.

I am writing now like there is no tomorrow and I am finding great relief in doing so. I knew I was really drawn to the words of my favorite poet Billy Collins.

I wonder how he feels about the use of the word “I”. I have used my quota for the month here.  I wonder if my mind is fading and how long I have with it.

I will be writing a lot in the months to come. And there I go making plans. Maybe I was listening to the guidance counselor after all.

If you subscribe you may want to stop following as it may get a little too verbose in these parts while I exercise my mind in the gymnasium of my heart by lifting the weight of the words.

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joining Eileen and Heather295b3123-4a67-4966-8a77-222919b9921c_thumb_BR_44

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Now

donkey 1Now looks radiant, dressed in white, holy moment

Pregnant with possibility

Hope

Expectant flesh and bone

Deliverer of new life, new mercies

And she is fragile, tender,  a living breathing paradox

She must be opened, spent

Used up, poured out to manifest her full worth

What is not gathered up and lived out, does not roll over

And accumulate in

A pile of tomorrow,

No gathering of nows,  saved and stockpiled

For a four week vacation

Now beats to the rhythm of sweet urgency

Though a lady

She waits for all to come to her, in the tick tock minutes

As hands on clock can not keep still

They must swing around, keep the beat

Clockwise, clock steady

So now

Compels us to be fully present in the sea of possibility

Open the curtain, unwrap

The crinkle bright shiny of her dressing,

New

Unveil the waiting

And live with her, rejoicing.

Now.

Creating beauty out of the given.

Seeking the buried right under the surfaces of her linen coverings

Wrapping our hearts in the warmth of her pleasant embrace.

Looking for all that hangs from the tree of her offering

For the picking, the gracious taking

And the generous release

Now are the days of our lives

Now are the days of our full blown living

God gifts generously as this earth turns, tides break, and hearts beat

All eyes on her, spotlight shines bright on her

Center stage

Act one begins

The play of life

The times of your lives

Thank and live

In the Advent of our nows

And stand with loud applause

Sing sweet praise

At all that is

Worthy of a hallelujah chorus

Of praises

Now.

donkey 3
shadows eyes and donkey

Joining Emily for her Imperfect Proseimperfectprose

Preamble to A Thanksgiving Advent Season- A Psalm of Sorts

Oh
Lord,
if
I
Start
Now
And
Don’t
Stop
I
May
Be
Ready
For
Thanksgiving
By
Thanksgiving
And
Christmas
By
Christmas
But
Then
Again
I
May
Not
Be
So
Today
I
Will
Pray
Prepare
And
Thank
And
Look
At
This
One
Beautiful
Day
With a Thanksgiving Christmas Heart.
Which
Should
Be
The
Posture
Of
My
Soul
Daily.
Join
Me?
Lining
Up
My
Moments
In
A
Posture
Of
Prayer
And
Praise.
Catch
Me
Lord
I
Am
Running
Straight
Into
Your
Arms
And
From
The
World.
Oh
Lord
Hide
The
Storefronts
From
My
Heart.
Prepare
My
Heart
For
Christ
Alone.
And
Help
Me
Celebrate
Simply
The
Joy
Of
Now.


 

linking with Jen and Eilleen

All photography courtesy of my dear friend the talented and beautiful Laura Hutto of Shades of Gray Photography