Saturday, May 19, 2018

Wash Rinse Repeat

Gray Hair Announces Me: Senior Citizen Medicare Eligible

I have been told I am courageous to have long gray hair. 

A Silver Sneakers friend asked "Is there a method to combing hair that long?" As I reflect I realize it is the same as life. Having the right tool is best. Start from the bottom in small sections (chunking). Other life lessons from living collaboratively with long hair is that an occasional trim of frayed ends refreshes the whole. Do not wash too frequently; it needs its own grittiness for full health. Most importantly ignore the marketing but learn from it and find your own authentic Wash-Rinse-Repeat.

Medicare Enrollment (Decisions to Make)

Medicare Enrollment marketing of me to me is constant. This birthday I will be 65. It is a culturally sensitive benchmark. I have a real life benchmark. As of March 2018 I reached my 40 years of 40 hours a month commitment. A secret goal, it became a way of life, a constant often anonymous commingling of life and service. Much of it has not been glamorous. Some of it has been risky. Much done with family. It continues each day. 


I know it is best to make goals public to get a support network of cheerleaders to help you get the win. But honestly I do not think I would have had cheerleaders until I became a mom. It was a long game, and my life cycled through many variations with this one constant. In many ways it centered me when other things were in flux.

Without knowledge of this unstated goal my immediate family in all its iterations were by my side because "It was just stuff we do.In retrospect, my unilateral decisions collaterally impacted family. I believe there-in there was good all around. 


As family, there were seven years of either Thanksgiving Day or Xmas Eve welcoming visitors at Goodwill Fantasy of Lights, nineteen years of being the Prison Chaplain Helpers, several community clean-up days from 4-H to local parks, and serving meals to homeless even on holidays. The list is endless. For me there were countless hours on mission statements, bylaws, policy, strategic plans and procedure documents. Then there was coordinating and/or covering events. And advocacy: preparing and giving testimony on housing, prison reform, capital punishment, gun control, recycling, energy conservation, voting rights, educational reform. Much of this in the six years as League of Women Voters (LWV) of New Haven President.


Why share now?  Partly, because I wonder if I had been more transparent, could more good have been done? Partly, to thank two people who were steady partners in good works: my son all thirty three years from in-womb until now and twenty years with my husband. Partly, to say I am going to refocus a bit so what you expect of me may get a new twist. But mostly to say having it be " ...just stuff we do" has been a life giving gift to me. Thanks to those who shared this with me. 



Some Back Story 


I did not keep a written log. The first two years were working full-time in VISTA assigned to New Haven, CT. I do not count the 7 years as a foster mom as service -- that was joy. The last 5 years were contractual as full-time Executive Director of WPAA-TV

The most challenging time to do this was during graduate school at age 50. I did my best to make this self-investment be deeper by leveraging school projects into community service. Example of leveraging were designing, deploying and maintaining the 7TownTV.org website. While this alliance has not been retained by those who succeeded my leadership in the scheme of things that does not matter. When it worked, it worked well.

During foster parenting years, I was in roles such as church treasurer and chairman of an all-volunteer TV station in a small town. Looking back, I cannot imagine how it all got done. There was always the more-than full-time job to do too because I was, as they say, the bread-winner. 


Many seniors add or find less family-centric ways to serve their community. It is no longer about coaching their kids sports or participating in PTO fundraisers. It often takes on a more universal flavor. Some start new non-profits or fulfill lifelong ideas of making a difference come to life. Some find stipend work to supplement SSN. Whatever the reason it is enriching lives including their own. I am proud to be an ally. 


For me service is going to remain one day, one engagement at a time wherever serendipity takes me. Why change now?




Inclusion must

In the noise we collectively must choose to speak and enable the voices of others to speak for justice to prevail. 

The breaking of barriers must not get lost in noise or systematic frameworks. Our myopia created by our unique lens of our personal circumstances is a formidable barrier to carving a path for others like ourselves or unlike us, together. 

We must find our own accountability and speak unmasked to those in leadership.

Monday, May 14, 2018

Rest

When I take time-out 
slow down
I see the the dust balls, laundry and piles 

piles of books
piles of notes
piles of incomplete

and rest deepens
into depression

I tinker with these posts
for which I took time-out 
before today.

I fill in some. I modify the punctuation.
I find scraps of me.

The clock ticks 
Task to-be-done.

Embrace the day.



Friday, May 11, 2018

Gathering with poets

What gathering with poets reminds me.

  • We have something shared that is both similar and dissimilar.
  • Listening opens us to new places within ourselves.
  • Discovery is central. Some take pleasure in the scaffolding of form or the tease of puzzling within it. Others take flight abandoning form completely. Others pick'n choose what to punctuate. 
  • Why poems: To express. To find. To Tear. To laugh. To become more whole. 

The prompt: 
Write a poem from what instantly connects with you in this poem


Of nature and seasons
only gardens and weeds and the amber of Queen Anne cherries in drops of rain and in the thorns of roses...Frozen forsythia yellowed. If streams mumble ... and grass snakes disappear
into thickets
with soft ferns, boundless fields of summer, lances of trees —of poplar and ash, green armies of burdocks     at dawn when dew gleams snails converse about eternity     pure as a peach 
Of spirituality
Dedicated to the Almighty the cathedral rises ... as straight as Sunday The bells pealed ... the cornets of nuns ... the Jesuits baptized plants Orthodox church’s silence without Mercy.          Why must every city become Jerusalem and every man a Jew?               I’d resurrect them so singly; the New Testament.  
Of metaphor
Like soft signs, fainting maidens, schooners near the theater ... dew gleams on a suitcase ...within frontiers not just in my passport ...murmur of each stone, scorched
 Of change
Converse. Breathe aloud. Burst. Overflow. Expect. Laugh with lighting. Express in haste. ALOUD for eternity. Encore. Encore. Cut the censors that they might go breathless.

Thursday, May 10, 2018

Whirrr is what we do

That moment you comb memory but are oh so stuck in muck.
That moment you find your missing glasses perched on the crown of your head.
That moment you smell burning, not boiling, water. Damaged Diamond.
That moment you wake to what you had forgotten.

That moment someone-else's priority distracts.
That moment the voice in your head interrupts "This is something ..." 
That moment good writing feeds you an unforgettable line. More insight a Google away.
That moment you ignore pause, rewind, replay to be present.
That moment you wake in drool. Missed it. The very thing you stretched your day for.

That moment you inhale Spring, lungs compressing for life itself.
That moment you think "Is cardio class over yet? Again. Again. And again. 

That moment you can not hold the laughter back and splatter your joy into your drink.
That moment you lean in to a hug.

That moment a question alights that you know will not be answered, so you do not ask.
That moment you stop reading to read again.
That moment you realize this person has become a friend.
That moment you realize being a mom is something you just do.

That moment you lost another poem. 
That moment you read another poem and your heart goes whirrr 
transports you back over 50 years
It went "Zip" when it moved
And "Bop" when it stopped
And "Whirrr" when it stood still
I never knew just what it was and I guess I never will.

~~~~ 1st draft -- the bones of it ~~~~
That moment you wake up realizing what you had forgotten.
That moment when you stop reading to read again.
That moment you hear a story and the voice in your head says I must remember that line.
That moment you are interrupted by someone-else's priority, distracted, maybe never to return to your moment.
That moment the good writer of a TV drama feeds you an unforgettable line which in trying to be present with the story, you do not remember well enough to Google. The value of replay if you have the moments.
That moment you walk into the gym and inhale the clean of it thankful, but lungs compressing for life itself.
That moment you think is cardio class over yet. Again. Again. Again. 
That moment you can not hold the laughter back and splatter your joy into your drink.
That moment you want to find a date for in your memory, but are oh so stuck in muck.
That moment you want to ask a question that you know will not be answered, so you do not ask.
That moment you realize this person has become a friend.
That moment you realize being a mom is something you just do.
That moment you lost another poem. 
That moment you read another poem and your heart goes whirrr 
transports you back over 50 years 

~~~ related ~~~
Don't Allow the Lucid Moment to Dissolve by Adam Zagajewski   

Thursday, May 3, 2018

Eating Ants


From The Body's Question: Poems Tracey K Smith US Poet Laureate 2018


Ants love sweets. I relate. I relate.
Crave is me.
Save the colony, are they.
Alone in my honey ...
Swarms about my crumbs ...
My home in their planet.

He chides. More Protein.
Eat more insects, scientists say. 

I am without their predictability
a persistent pheromone informed calculus 
I am tornado like shadowing above them 
in my fear of itchy contamination. 

It is in my head: automatic negative thoughts.
Bait them, slow to the queen they go. 
No.

Voices in my head;

I'd rather not kill the ants but I do want to be rid'f 'em. 
What of an Option B?

Mock (giggle)

Eat ANTS.

Chorus

We need ants.

Refrain 

There is science! 
Yuck surfaces from my gut's own microbiome.


I am not at the ready to extinguish life
to partner with residual guilt
I am open to sharing space with planet savers
oblivious to true knowing

It is in my heart: be mindful
seductively resilience comes among the pharmakon
vinegar and cinnamon.





Notes: 
This poem evolved from a satirical exchange about real life ants in the kitchen. While writing I encountered nudges on this poems' purpose as I try to wedge into my life more time for poem-ing. 
After a chat with a local poet I seek and find again the inaugural reading by Tracy K Smith. I scan and listen soon to hear the poetic reference to ants and purpose and reach Joy and poem such that "The body is memory"
In my next attempt to squeeze in some writing time - I listen with some disappointment to Dr. Daniel Amen reading of his children's book
Distracted from life-balance again by tasks at the intersection of me and work [In chunks it appeared on my LinkedIn while posting my 5th anniversary search for collaboratorsI click; nudged by prior knowing through Community TV curation and a friend who often connects me to a world bigger than my box. I take time to listen to informing promotional videos by Adam Grant and Sheryl Sandberg about the nonprofit Option B which just so happens to be more on what to do about ANT specifically when beset by trauma.

And as I revel in the puzzling of words, word usage examples play along
mindful eating will allow you to savor your food and eat more intuitively rather than emotionally
and end in a surreal wrap-up with the term pharmakon (Jacques Derrida Plato's Pharmacy) and inference by David Foster Wallace 
The self-conscious appearance of unself-consciousness is the grand illusion behind TV's mirror-hall of illusions; and, for us, the Audience, it is both medicine and poison