Poemfish

Inspiration & Those Little Mistakes We Make Along the Way

 

Some days I feel lost. 
Like there is too much noise
and chaos to hear my own voice.
I lose sight of what's truly important,
instead focusing on every imperfection
and mistake. 
I let fear guide me and end up stumbling
off the path. 

I can't find my way back. 

I am too hard on myself.  I know this, and yet it seems
like an impossible obstacle to overcome. 
I am often too sensitive, filled with doubt,
always believing I will fail before I've even
given myself a chance.  But I know this sensitivity
is also the thing that inspires me to create
art and images that come from my heart, the place
where stories live and take shape, truths that
can be powerful and yet still need protection.
 
What I am realizing is that I will always be
a work in progress, learning from my mistakes.
Someone whose heart is damaged easily, but is
stronger than she thinks.
I am trying every day, seeking a life
filled with hope, wonder and love.
And most days, trying
is enough. 

April Strawberries

 

Today is about catching up.
Instead of living in a constant
state of panic, going over and
over all the things I MUST get done,
and paralyzing myself along the way,
I am jumping in, head first,
with the windows open, delicate songs
of encouragement whispered by the
nesting birds outside my window,
kitties enjoying the fresh air
as much as me, as I nibble away
on one of my favorite springtime snacks ~
strawberries and Nutella.  Suddenly
a day at the office doesn't seem so bad.

Up Ahead

   

Sometimes we find strength
in the places we least expect it.
Just when we think we have
reached the edge of a path,
with no way to cross up ahead,
it's like we suddenly come upon
a hill and an entire world of
possibilities we couldn't see
before.  The important thing to
remember is that it was always
there, even when we couldn't see
or feel it.  And in that tiny
notion lives the thing that
is always with us, even when it
gets caught between the change
at the bottom of our pockets ~
hope.

Looking Up

   

I am trying to look up more.
Into the sky and the complexity
of branches.  Into the eyes of
people I pass on the street.
At the history behind a rusted
sign.  The beauty of patterns
in the wood of an old park bench.

I am paying attention to my life
and how I feel every moment I'm truly
living it.  Noticing how I hold my body and
the words that come when I'm free and
uncensored. 

I don't have all the answers, most of the time
I have none.  But I'm realizing it's more about
movement than having it all worked out.  It's the ache
to get there, the passion to keep seeking more,
no matter where we're planted right now.

"This is your life.  Are you who you want to be?"
~ Switchfoot

Learning to Fly

 

Last night I learned how to fly.

I, along with about 15 other women,
participated in a workshop led by
several members of the Diavolo group.

It's hard to describe exactly what we did,
moving around the stage like clouds
and wind. Falling, unable to
stand until we were helped back
on our feet.  Being the eyes for
someone else, then having no eyes at all. 

Dizzy, fearful, fun, exciting, freeing.

We weren't actors, gymnasts or
dancers.  We were just ourselves,
discovering the freedom in movement,
the power of our bodies, and the ability
within us to move past fear into
the realm of complete openness and joy.

We were challenged into new
ways of moving, seeing, and
being. Some of us friends.
Some of us strangers. All of
us there to support and encourage
one another.

There was no judgment. 

We were there to learn and perhaps
move beyond the boxes we had
so easily tucked ourselves into.

We were there to open ourselves
to possibility in an effort to
become something more. 

And I would have been the absolute last
person to imagine I would fall backwards
off a ladder into the arms of 5 people
waiting below.  But once I was able to
move past the fear, doubt, and disbelief
(unfortunately for everyone there,
it took me quite a while of standing on
that ladder getting past those things),
I could hear the reassuring voices
of those below, those people wanting
me to let go, wanting to be there
for me, wanting to catch me.

And it was in their voices that
I was finally able to hear the
strength and compassion I so often
shy away from.  I was able to take
it in, truly accept their gift, and
let them take care of me.

And in that moment of letting go,
I closed my eyes and felt some
new part of my heart peeking out,
wanting to reach up to the sky
and hold on to this moment forever.
The fear dropped away and I felt
completly free and alive.

Last night I didn’t just learn how to fly.
I flew.