Mahogany suede-scented candle
lifts my prayers heavenward
petitions spit like sparks out
to the beyond where golden stars
balance on black silk with shiny
pearl strings of galaxies in a coil
teakwood, oil, flame, light
magic cradled in Japanese pottery
hands pressed clay together
in meditative knowing aligning
time, place, now, never
where all the answers sit
comfortably together unbothered
by the questions.
Dust more valuable than gold,
treasures worth their weight
in memory.
Antique steamer trunks
stacked at the foot of the bed
hold space, time –
capsules layered with matter.
I have been buying trunks on Marketplace to use as storage. I never liked the plastic totes and cardboard boxes I used to keep my items in. These feel full of mystery and history. They even inspire poetry.
Photo by Karolina Grabowska: https://www.pexels.com/photo/woman-sitting-on-the-couch-wiping-her-sweat-with-tissue-7195033/
It has been a year to the day since my last post and I am in a very different place emotionally. Last year, I was much more hopeful and excited about healing, beginning a new school year, finishing my Master’s, and the restful summer I had experienced. Today, I am tired…tired of the Texas heat, tired of dealing with the nonsense required in the teaching field, tired of living paycheck to paycheck, tired of being unable to afford the medical care I need to be healthy and thrive, tired of not having the time or energy to write.
I have decided that I do not like the road I am traveling and need to make some changes. I have wished and dreamed of making change but kept my focus on priorities that are not in line with the reality of the new adventures I want to pursue. I hereby declare that I am no longer putting energy into goals that line up with my previous pursuits. I am going to do what is required of me day to day to meet my obligations, but I am going to reserve the purist, most energetic, liveliest parts of myself for my creative pursuits and begin in earnest to create the reality I yearn for.
All I know is that I want to work remotely, write, be creative, and make enough money to be comfortable and pay for my medical needs. I’m putting it out there and beginning my journey. I’m tired of being tired.
(Photo by David Mao on Unsplash)
I have had a wonderful summer of healing from hip replacement surgery, finishing my Master’s degree in English and Creative Writing, taking long restful naps, and sipping tea while I immerse myself in story.
Tomorrow I return to work sharing my passion for the written word with others as an English Literary Arts and Reading teacher to secondary students (grades 6-12.) My goal this school year is to foster a classroom that encourages both reading and writing as methods of discovery, escape, healing, and growth. Whether the students decide to join me on this journey is another story. I will share weekly moments of triumph and failure as the year unfolds. This will be my 23rd year in education, but my first year of approaching the subject matter in this way. I am excited about the opportunity to try something new.
Wish my students and me luck! It should be quite the adventure.
If the Goblet of Fire
spits out your name
expect to face dragons
and battle sea creatures
You’re doomed if you do
and doomed if you don’t
for the game is rigged
and no one really wins
Contenders end up in a
graveyard of darkness
Save who you can
as you fight for your life
because you will face
suffering greater than any
you have ever known
Persist through the mazes
of self-doubt and despair
Stay true to your values
remember your friends
Speak truth to oppressors
stare down the barrel
of hatred’s unrepentance
to earn peace in the end
This poem was written during a Harry Potter marathon with my friend Debbie M. while watching the fourth movie Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.
What is your greatest fear?
Finish it with silliness.
Spiders stumbling in roller skates,
tyrants donning absurd apparel,
cobras turned jack-in-the-box,
full moon a deflating balloon.
A bit of whimsy bordering on
nonsense disarms the boogeyman.
Don’t wait for your father –
he’s not coming.
Save yourself with joy,
for laughter is fear’s nemesis.
This poem was written during a Harry Potter marathon with my friend Debbie M. while watching the third movie Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.
The key
to opening
my chamber
of secrets
is consistency.
Showing oneself
worthy of trust,
a companion
who arrives.
There is something
to be said for
presence,
the constant knowing
that someone can
be counted on
to exist
when others
are virtual.
This poem was written during a Harry Potter marathon with my friend Debbie M. while watching the second movie Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.
I am happy to announce that great progress has been made in the last year. I have earned my Master’s Degree in English and Creative Writing, my grandchildren have been reunited with their parents, I finally had hip surgery, and I made it through the year teaching despite COVID. It has been a wild ride, but things are looking up. I see the glimmers of feeling better and stronger on the horizon. I am certainly more confident about my passion for writing and my commitment to making a career for myself in the literary field.
Here’s to constant improvement, even if it looks like barely any progress is being made. It is okay to tiptoe out of comfort zones, take teeny tiny baby steps toward goals, and spend tons of time researching options before picking the next right thing. This journey is not a race.
(Illustration: Sarah Grillo/Axiosa)
My grandchildren and I have settled into a nice routine over the last few weeks. We get up early to eat and play, do homeschool and play some more. The weather has been either rainy or cool for the most part, so outside time can occur whenever they like. They play on the porch when it rains. The only weather we cannot tolerate is hot. Living in Texas ensures that the outdoors are inaccessible at least 3 months out of the year.
I have begun my master’s degree in Creative Writing and am enjoying the topics of discussion thus far. We are studying the way new words get added to our vocabulary. Some I think are of note are Rona for Coronavirus, skurt for go, and beat for applying makeup. I find the evolution of language fascinating. I am always interested in how words come about and why certain ones stick. I’m sure these are familiar to some, but I had never heard them until this year.
Teaching my actual students from home has gone great so far. I have only been asked to send little amounts of work on paper up until now. Beginning next week, I will teach some Zoom lessons…at least we are going to experiment with it! We shall see how it goes.
Another exciting leap I took was joining an online meditation/writing group. I love it! After meditating and relaxing, my writing flows so much better and I am getting back to my craft. I recommend writing and sharing with others once in a while. It is very motivating!
My last post was in October. I reported that I had not written since authority figures in my life slammed me with judgment, censorship, and criticism…not only of my writing, but my discernment as a human being and professional.
Now my job is in jeopardy–not connected to my writing, politics above my station. I am working from home due to the coronavirus and quarantine and all that bizarreness that is occurring in this world right now.
I have also taken in grandchildren temporarily while adult children fix their worlds. I’ve had a winter of sickness and slow recovery. I’ve battled a time of sadness. And I’ve applied to begin working on my master’s degree. Big things are happening.
And all I want to do is write…and read…and write some more. Enough pouting, sulking, brooding, etc. It is time to get back to finding my joy. I cannot be derailed by others whose opinions I don’t even value anyway. It has certainly not been a conscious decision to take a sabbatical from writing, but that is what has occurred. And it has not been good for me.
Here and now, I resolve to get back to writing. I declare this time of non-writing ended. Rebekah the writer is back.
rebekahjmarshall 