Tuesday, October 17, 2017

Let you Unfold

We cannot grow if we are not fully present in the evolutionary experience. Present can be challenging, uncomfortable, and tedious, but ... Enjoying and fully experiencing the journey of life is as important as achieving goals and reaching milestones. Let you Unfold.

Sunday, September 3, 2017

Who am I

Who are the Poets?
They embrace the power and fragility of words in lines. Poets can find that authentic, revealing and potentially universal place between a random access release of personal feelings and observances of our world. They discover the obscure, esoteric personal connectivity to our being. Some master tools of form, others rhythm, metaphor or illusion. 

Friday, August 25, 2017

No longer necessary, ...

It takes energy to stay informed. The world seems smaller or at least closer now and my younger self-was so wrong about the need to advocate soon to be unnecessary.

At age 17, I actually thought all the important fights had been fought: that advocacy for causes on the side of good & right were no longer necessary. An eighteen-year-old could now vote. There was an end in sight for Vietnam War. The Civil Rights struggles would now be history lessons. Even at 28, I was still in the shallows. Iran Contra seemed 'nothing' compared to Vietnam. I had just served two years in VISTA but failed to connect the dots between the Criminal Justice System I found broken and the failed of Civil Rights Activism and Acts. At 33 I became a community leader by title; a full calendar with tasks and topics: reproductive rights, recycling, voter engagement as President of the League of Women Voters of New Haven. I got swallowed up in the consensus agendas for several years. I did not stay a member after this immersion. I needed to retreat. I did however find another nonpartisan venue: Community TV.

My shallows
Was I a victim of my shallows, my education and media choices?  Did I measured the value of the revolts by the numbers of participants I observed as reported on TV?  Was broadcast news a real window on the world? The Vietnam war was piped into our homes daily. How did it really deepen my understanding of the world or the why of it. Ironically I read Gloria Steinem My Life on the Road to discover so much context for my life.  It was a gift and is truly that.

Today I can stand with those saluting the American flag and taking a knee during the Anthem. While I enable free speech in my daily pursuits, I can not stand with anyone who condemns civil protests.
Much in the world will continue to need advocacy, including Mother Earth herself. Symbols and words have power.  Choose wisely. 

Wednesday, June 28, 2017

CLP: More than serendipity and improv

Update: I received a CLP invitation to participate 7/14/17; engagement begins this Fall. Grateful.

My paid work-life is bookended by full-time volunteering. I am in more than full-time service mode now. Graduate studies, in research, then in e-media, preceded these opportunities to serve my community; initially as a VISTA Volunteer in New Haven and now operating a nonprofit Community TV station in Wallingford, CT.  

I recently applied to Community Leadership Program offered by a Foundation serving New Haven. Its mission is to equip, support and inspire community leaders. I did this to help moderate, and enhance, the next leg of my journey. If diversity includes a middle-aged white suburban woman, I may get selected. Chances are said to be less than fifty-fifty in this year's aspiring and deserving applicant pool.

My Journey
My personal life is peppered with name alterations and course corrections. The bulk of my career was with one corporation that had many transformations of its own thus providing for no opportunity for my stagnation. 

I have had many common labels like foster mom, analyst, team lead, poet, president, adviser, chairman, a victim and maven with not so ordinary stories to accompany them. 

At age 10, I decided my home would have a window above the kitchen sink with a view of a bustling bird feeder. I have this. At 21, I wanted to be a writer and thought my day job would be a social worker; neither truly came to pass. At 32, I became a mom giving birth to a son and a pen name ~Adele Houston. Both would become my sanctuary. At 40, I had a moment of independence. At 50, I decided to face my technology anxiety which derailed training in Library Sciences in 1975. I returned to school for a second advanced degree which put me into an ever changing e-media landscape and an abundance of life-long learning opportunities. Currently, I aspire to a full-filling mid-life with my sights set to double infinity (88). I still do not know what I want to be when I grow-up. I firmly believe that serendipity makes the most of choices and fate. 

To equip, support and inspire can describe my day job with storytelling at its core. Some days I wish my toolkit was less improvisational. My leadership style is situational as it should be, however, it is not as informed as it could be. Every experience provides a new or revived life lesson. I seem to be acquiring fewer scars along the way.

At the moment my life is substantially driven by whatever walks in the door of the TV station. As such, I change lives including my own in unexpected ways, daily. 

In spite of successful strategic outcomes, sustainability remains elusive for the organization I serve. For this to change, I need to not only help build organizational capacity but be willing to personally be less anonymous. Some peculiar constraints are also tied to local politics with a mayor of 34 years who dare I say is not a fan. Many stories herein. 

I remain uncertain as to whether I should be a bit more take-charge of my life. Ironically, I am perceived as someone in-charge.

Next: Will authenticity grow wrinkles? or Over today's Rainbow

Saturday, February 18, 2017

Dutchboy and me

My 1st Haibun is written (while among other poem-makers) in response to a vase of artificial tulips and porcelain kissing dutch ceramics.

Like from a storybook. We. Inhale.

You are 100%. Your name means house in Dutch. 

Now my name, my home is salt & peppered 
with Delftblue, porcelain, clogs, wooden shoes and the abundant promise of tulips in port.  
My imaginings still linger, Kiss Me In Paris, circa 1950, posterized Doisneau nuanced in black and white, more me, than you.

Sans fragrance
In shiny, colorful cheer
we are molded.

Saturday, January 21, 2017

I AM Where the Enneagram finds you, and points to.

Every day is one of evolution.

The Rational, Idealistic Type: Principled, Purposeful, Self-Controlled, and Perfectionistic

The Caring, Interpersonal Type: Demonstrative, Generous,
People-Pleasing, and Possessive

The Success-Oriented, Pragmatic Type: Adaptive, Excelling, Driven, and Image-Conscious

The Sensitive, Withdrawn Type:
Expressive, Dramatic, Self-Absorbed,
and Temperamental

The Intense, Cerebral Type: Perceptive, Innovative, Secretive, and Isolated

The Committed, Security-Oriented Type: Engaging, Responsible, Anxious, and Suspicious

The Busy, Fun-Loving Type: Spontaneous, Versatile, Distractible, and Scattered

The Powerful, Dominating Type:
Self-Confident, Decisive, Willful, and Confrontational

The Easygoing, Self-Effacing Type: Receptive, Reassuring, Agreeable, and Complacent
I zealously pursue noble causes
see the blacks, whites;
But systems fail me.

I desire from my heart
But it turns tortuously inside me,
conflicted - by desire for affirmation.

I feel the place where I lay my head
But I do not rest - that
I might not recognize some success.

I sense majesty in all creation,
long to be empowered
But find no completion.

I listen precisely
to intimate intimacies
But remain aloof.

I understand what is right:
protecting, supporting, uplifting
But I know no direction.

I show, express, perform, teach
with an eventful flair
But know no certainty.

I passionately lust ahead
exaggerating the rightness
of where I stand;
But refuse to turn any corner.

I hear the quiet of my pulse
Like a secret, feeling
it pounding out of time.

I am at the foot of the cross
brokenness awaits
your resurrection in me.
I am diligently desiring good
most tolerant of imperfection.

I am generous of spirit
extending and uplifting embrace.

I am creating from within
achieving great things in love .

I am extraordinary in the ordinary
present in all wonder

I am discerning
and the walk is daily.

I am trusting
deeply, drinking
from the strength of truth.

I am enthusiastically
embracing wisdom.

I am passionate for life
championing social justice.

I am profoundly tranquil
confident, and at peace.

I am whole
head, heart and gut
chains broken
for this time and forever


Saturday, January 7, 2017

De Journey to My Solstice

Imprecise memories mingle.
It is not obvious in my days 
what I tangle in my mind.
Fallible in skips, voids, 
misplaced in thought and keys
at midlife, still searching for luck .

Four-leaf clovers occupied my imagination
more than Barbie or Jesus. 
Suspecting luck, the kissing cousin of fate,
would - could - should hobnob;
leapfrogging me over necessity 
into a tyranny of urgent, of possible

with Art. Fractal Gobbled-y-gook:
What does one do with luck?  Get a snowflake’s
destiny! Help it along. Add a regal “de”
before the family name.

Vittorio de Sica, our acquaintance made 
in caressed pages of a shelf-long encyclopedic
book by wide-eyed ogling, me. Our name 
in local marquee lights. Comedic. The world 
is on show. Divorce Italian Style’. A matinee. 
A man, nothing to do, nowhere to go. Fate’s 
finite area rhythmically repeats. Irony 
in cinematic modes of vision, unerring.
Serendipity, makes both true: choice and 
chance. I marvel. A celluloid masterpiece, 
directed by an infinitely distant cousin. Awake
from Winter an invisible Summer, an uncertain
man and his dog story, Umberto D (and Flike)

My last triad, taking stock again of leaves 
embracing the darkness of My Solstice and nature 
like a poet with cautions to heed: not to arrive 
with Blue Jay beggary I fold into the dark 
with thickened fur, to cherish the world and people
as they are, with all their failings, and faint
tender connections to the beauty of being. Space 
lurks in the tilted balance of my body clock 
between same old things in infinite perimeter. 

Copious clover with three leaves belie the fact
that Life is truly a factor of four

By Adele Houston Week One and Two of 2017

The Writing Prompt: Use concepts of Transition, Solstice, New Adventure, Hero’s Journey, or other concept of change relating to endings and beginnings. Relate it to yourself, our world, religion, politics, or other situation that feels right
. NOTE: Maiden name S.A.Sica