Traffic Jam

Response to Prompt #22: Rants and Riffs

What the fuck? Why does that guy think he's so special? I had the longest day ever driving from one place to the other sitting in meetings and picking ever-so-slightly at a light lunch so as not to appear a gluttonous pig over every one of the offerings on the table. I wanted it all bored and starving and so uncomfortably aware of how trim and cute each of those fashionista tarts was. I nibbled on greens like a hamster to fit in. At least if they thought I was fat they'd think I was working on it. Now I'm hangry and sitting in traffic and I need to pee and I am yelling at strangers who are probably as frustrated as I am. I wonder where they are all coming from and if they ate lunch. We're lined up one behind the other like the matchbox cars in an autistic toddler's playroom. Nowhere to go and no opportunity to change our minds. We are just stuck. I try not to feel bad for myself and instead worry about the people up ahead who may be involved in a crash that is causing this standstill traffic jam. But it's hard. I'm tired and I'm hungry and I really have to pee! And then as if more important than the rest of us as though we left this red carpet lane open for him this asshole in a Mustang pulls out from the bumper to bumper traffic and helps himself to the shoulder like it's a freeway there just for special people like him. I know. I'm not going to lie we have all thought about it. Could I make it around these cars? Can I get over to that lane just so I can get to the off ramp? I swear I'm not going to drive through it I just need to make it to the exit. But I don't do it. Maybe because I know it's illegal. Maybe because I recognize the need for emergency vehicles to get through. Maybe just because I'm not an asshole. At least I don't think I am. I'm crazy tired and hungry and in desperate need of the humming vibration of the road to trick my bladder into submission. Shaking my legs and bouncing in my seat is not working. I have to find the perfect song on my iPod one that I know all the lyrics from so I can sing because if I sing I'll forget I have to go to the bathroom. And then in true irony or maybe not true irony certainly not literal irony the music played.... damn this traffic jam!

Prompt #23: Behind Closed Doors

At the advice of friend and fellow Trailbrazin', Randi Brewer, I sought out this secret door as I walked along McGregor Boulevard. It's an odd door--I can't place its style, culture or era.  But, one thing is certain: I am itching to know what's behind it. 

Use this door (or up the ante and find one of your own) to inspire a piece of writing about what happens behind the closed doors--genre of your choice. 

Have fun! As always, I can't wait to see your responses! 

Prompt #22: Rants and Riffs

Prompt #22: Rants and Riffs

look at you!! oh ha ha!

sitting there all by yourself

you have nobody, while I have everybody!

twitch if you want to, I know this pisses you off.

and GOOD!  because I hate you.

Stop glowering at me

you can stop staring

no whining now, this is how it is.

I'm free and you're not!

but I still hate you.

Oh!  Isn't it lovely outside?

Too bad you can't enjoy it!

Can you wander through the grass?

Can you enjoy the bright sky?

Can you smell that delicious scent?

NO!

and I still hate you!

You would eat me if you could!  

You would take my nest apart, piece by piece

Not many can chase me up a tree and beat me at my own game,

but you can. (though I'd never admit it)

My tail twitches every time I think about it.

You set my whiskers into a tizzy!

You would probably give me fleas.

OH! How I hate you!!

It's a good think you can't get out of that window.

Rodent.  I so enjoy watching you. You frolic around thinking you are free and fancy that.  I could kill you in a heart beat, just like that.  Ridiculous rodent, you can't even walk straight.  First you jump left, then right, then left again.  Sometimes you even walk around in circles.  Have you no sense of direction?  Or are you simply stupid?

I see you up there, crawling across the wire.  I frequently pray for your electrocution.   How I would love to see the sizzle and pop of every last hair on your tail.  I bet that will stop halt your relentless, mindless chattering.  Do you have any idea how annoying your incessant noises can be?  I am thankful for the glass between us, as it muffles your babbling.

Stupid rodent.  I would kill you, you know.  If I felt like leaving my comfortable abode, I would make a meal out of you.  I might suck out your eyes just for fun.  Then to show my great pleasure, I would throw you up on my lovely Persian carpet.  Yes, what a decoration you would make.

Don't get so sure of yourself squirrel.  Your days are numbered, as are my days of dry cat food.  You should be thankful that I can't get out of this window today.

Interiors

Response to Writing Retreat Prompt

Interiors

By Helen Sadler

Part I  “Holiday (The Picnic)”

Please help me I’m falling into another garden of despair.

She feels bored.

Please help me find a new way.

She cannot stand small talk.

Please take me away from this place.

She doesn’t see the invisible people.

Please stop insisting I be who I’m not.

She isn’t aware of the deep pond behind her.

Please stop flirting, smoking, drinking tea.

She thinks there most be more.

Please help me I’m falling into another garden of despair.

She needs a new home.

Please help me stop doing this to myself.

She needs a new direction.

Part II “Elsewhere, Mon Amour”

If you find yourself lost, dig

Why do I keep being pulled to

this word LOST?

I really do not feel

LOST.

I feel   drained (a bit)

            tired (a bit)

            unmotivated (a lot)

            unable (no will)

            un-hungry (unless I’m ravenous)

            disconnected (from music)

So…I guess this is to say

I’ve LOST some part of me

An energized part of me

that no longer seems to exist.

Maybe this is why I keep feeling

a connection to the word LOST.

I have lost something

some vital part of me.

I don’t know where it is

But it must be somewhere, right?

Part III Reflection on Retreat

I came home from the retreat and soon I could see that the art card reflected me. The Nick Flynn poem that morning provided the right words to help me express this.  I wanted to feel alive and happy and ready for anything with my writing partners that weekend. Instead, I was sluggish and struggling and simply not in the right frame of mind. So much like the lady I imagine at the picnic.  So much like the title of Nick’s poem – Elsewhere.

This was March 26.  I knew from then on that I had to dig.  I had to find what I lost.

Finally, several days into spring break, I had a breakthrough.  Finally I found why I was being dragged.  I had to yell at my disease to get things to turn around.  I had to acknowledge the power the Second Chakra has in my life – has always had in my life – has always sent warnings when things aren’t quite right.

Writing retreat. Writing partners. Writers. They are everything.

They have led me to the answers for me.  Honoring relationships.  Acknowledging polarities. Spiritual balance. Color. Art. Nature.

It’s all far from perfect, but the found energy is enough to provide direction and sustenance while I make the changes I need to make.

I know I had to do a lot of digging. But with everything in place, it was easier to find than I imagined it would be.

Part IV  Promise

Promise yourself you will no longer bottle energy into your second chakra, causing so much discomfort.

Remember there is great power inside of you that can be turned with true awareness, clarity.

Open to it. Acknowledge where the shadows have dwelled. See them. Then bid them goodbye.

Move forward with expression and dedication to your physical body, communion with all.

Invest in yourself; relationships, gentleness, peacefulness, creativity, internal power.

Safe now in a protected spot, accepting the manna that is yours, nourishing and fulfilling the promise of life.

Engage in this deep knowing.

#

Thank you:

James Tissot for your art

Nick Flynn for your poetry and memoirs

Caroline Myss for Anatomy of the Spirit (it has saved me many times)

David Whyte “Finisterre” – a poem that keeps giving

Melinda at Pampered Soul

Kat Duff for a body wisdom workshop from 1994 that led me into a process

Trail Brazen Writing Circle: Laurie, Annmarie, Dana, Randi

Revisiting the Retreat

This is the writing I did in response to the art card prompt from the retreat. I don't feel compelled to continue with the card and piece of writing I did. I am including here, a slightly revised version of what I wrote that day. I was instead, drawn back to the "She remembers" poem I wrote as we read our photographs and wrote in 3rd person about ourselves or the other "characters"in the photos.

Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose, 1885-6 John Singer Sargent 1856

They were like little blossom fairies fallen from the flowered trees, prancing through the garden in nightgowns adorned in ruffles that matched the falling blooms. Just before bed they collected lightning bugs in glass honey jars, illuminating their faces from below one brighter than the other. It is difficult living in the shadow of everything she was- or wasn't. She wondered if her little bug shared her pain, or just basked in the glow of her own light unaware there was even a shadow.

***

She Remembers

She remembers the feeling of arrival

She remembers this time she wasn't the youngest in the room

She remembers they could actually afford the hotel

She remembers how impressed people seemed to be she had risen 

so high on the ladder at such a young age

that at 30 she was in her best physical condition, 

despite having a young child

She remembers how grown up she felt attending the wedding of her young protege

She remembers the feelings of suspicion their love wouldn't last, 

and finding out a few years later she was right

She remembers the show- not only of the marriage 

but of the packaged consumerism of a Disney wedding

that she knew marriage and relationships and life

were not made up of fairy tales

She remembers the feeling of slipping into a twelve dollar dress 

and making it look like a million bucks

that her husband couldn't keep his hands off her

and he whispered in her ear all night about going back to the room

She remembers that night in the hotel

She remembers that even though she doesn't feel like a million bucks now

he still touches her the same way he did then  

that husbands aren't knights and wives aren't princesses

and love isn't a fairytale

She remembers...

Dear Microscopic Colitis,

 Response to Prompt #22:   Rants and Riffs

By Helen Sadler



Dear (or should I say not so dear) Microscopic Colitis,

We are going on six years, and I feel like you are never going to go away.  I am tired of the urges at night that keep me awake, tired of not being able to enjoy food or wine the way I’d like, tired of the constant fear that I will have an accident in the classroom. And now, more than ever, I notice how you affect my energy level and my will to move my body. Of course, that has been going on for a long time – it is only after being on the steroid and seeing the difference that I become totally unhappy with you.

Sometimes it feels hopeless. After all, by all reports the best I can hope for is remission, or perhaps you will just go away someday.  But I fear you will render me unable to be comfortable in my life.  You will take away from me my ability to earn a living, and that the foods I can eat will continue to be reduced.

Yet, I have withheld my anger from you, and I don’t know why. The only time I got super angry was after the first round of steroids, when I realized you had not really gone away. And then the next round.  And the next.  And that time, I really thought you were gone.  But you returned and took my energy again. Weeks now, I’ve dragged myself to do any little task, could not fully enjoy a weekend with my friends, and even during this spring break I’ve been sluggish from dealing with you.

So, I’m angry.  Yes, I am.  Today I finally realized it was the first step I had to take to actually make this change.  Until I’m willing to see you for exactly what you are, I cannot find the healing path. I know I need to turn this around, and I know you come with a message.  I have only half-listened before. 

I’m listening now.

hms  4/13/17

Dear Helen,

My job is not to give you the message outright.  My job is to gently lead you to your own healing.

For a long time you didn’t believe I could go away.  You were willing to live with me.  I’m glad you now see perhaps it doesn’t have to be that way. Please do not feel guilty for it having taken this long.  Just let it be.

You always have the power to make the changes you need.  Go back on the steroid.  Get acupuncture.  Develop some more nurturing spiritual routines. Get on with your writing projects. You haven’t been too good with that, have you?  Make the decision that feels right in your heart and soul and spirit.

Yoga is there.  And sound healing through music.  Nature. Parts of you aren’t integrated right now.  It doesn’t feel safe.  You can pull it all back together.

Make it safe.

You have the power you need. You have the information you need.  You still have a few days of this break to turn it around – or at least begin to.  Study up. Pray.  Seek answers.

Listen.

Signed,

Your Symptoms, but not the Cause.

Everyday Goddess

Response to the Writing Retreat Prompt. 

~~~~~

This is a departure from but inspired by my original writing from the retreat. As you all know, this artwork proved bothersome to me, and I couldn't put my finger on it. As I was sitting outside today taking a few mindful moments, it occurred to me that my irritation is rooted in jealousy. I am so uptight and self-conscious about my body, and this woman is just flaunting hers (which is eerily similar to mine) without a care. And, then this poem was born. 

Everyday Goddess
by Annmarie Ferry

I disrobe not to satisfy the desires of petty men--
they cannot handle the venereal power I possess. 

I disrobe not to pose for an artist's brush--
he could never capture my innate sensuality.

I disrobe not to shock my prudish counterparts--
their meager opinions of me hold no value.

I disrobe to satisfy my own yearnings--
flagrantly unencumbered in my natural state.

I disrobe to honor the One who created me--
each and every curve of my body handcrafted.

I disrobe to break free of the crushing confinement of society--
embracing the countless possibilities that lie ahead. 

Do you find yourself feeling a little jealous,
perhaps even embarrassed to fix your gaze upon me?

You may be shackled by your own shame,
but I chose to live a life unclad by self-reproach. 

I chose to live life naked.  

Dear Universe

Response to Prompt #22, Rants and Riffs 

Whew!  While the situations are fictional (with the exception of a few minor ones), it was cathartic to lodge some complaints.  I learned a little something about myself, the function of the universe, and karma in the process.

Dear Universe,

I would really like to know what I did in a past life to deserve the karmic bullshit you have been flinging all over me for the past 3 months. Life was going along so well—I had finally gotten to a place where I felt like things were easy, and I really wanted to enjoy coasting for a bit longer. But, noooooooooooooooo, you had to step in and shake up my world like a superstorm, blowing my security out of the water and cracking the foundation of my confidence. 

Don’t get me wrong. I know I had it good for too long, and part of me was waiting for “my turn” to suffer.  But, I thought it would come in the form of something big—one disaster that I could tackle and conquer in small steps. Instead, your game plan includes a few big changes with curve balls tossed in just for fun. You’re killing me. 

Here is a list of some of my complaints in case you care:

• separation from my husband of 25 years
• a fender bender that was of course my fault (even though it wasn’t)
• a broken pinky toe
• hives from a medicine prescribed to cure a raging UTI
• a house sale that fell through (after I moved into a rental)
• added duties at my job (without a raise) due to downsizing
• my son moving back home after dropping out of college
• a stolen debit card number
• a sick parent
• a sister who won’t speak to me 
• 12-day heavy periods due to perimenopause (really?)
• chronic stomach pain
• a roof leak
• the stomach flu
• a pinched nerve in my neck
• a long-term friendship falling apart for reasons unbeknownst to me (maybe she’s sleeping with the husband I am separated from?)

I am sure I am forgetting hundreds of other little things, but you get the gist, right?

Look, I know shitty things happen to good people, but I work really hard to put good out there, so I am quite baffled at your recent attack. Please let me know how we can rectify this problem so I can move along with my life. 

Sincerely,

Negative Nelly

Dear Negative Nelly,

Let me begin by saying that I am quite fed up with taking the blame for everything that goes wrong in a person’s life.  What you ignorant humans do not seem to grasp is I am not for or against you. I just am. 

You see, I am pretty busy keeping the cosmos all together and don’t have the time or energy to concern myself with the minutiae of your daily life. And, for you to think otherwise is inexcusably egotistical. It’s about so much more than you. 

You see, the ideas of good/bad and reward/punishment are wholly human constructs.  There is no cosmic boomerang that throws back at you what you toss out. It would be fanfuckintastic if you could wrap your minuscule brain around that. 

So, instead of erroneously blaming me (and karma), why don’t you just try to take responsibility for things as they come and deal with them? You will find that you will be much more at peace—notice I didn’t say happy—if you can manage this.  You were never guaranteed unbridled joy and smooth sailing on your journey, so get over that idea right now for your own sanity.  You will experience pain along with your pleasure. You will suffer what you see as injustices—both major and minor.  Sometimes, it all gets piled on at once.  It’s not payback for having it good for so long. It just is. 

Oh!  Another helpful hint: Why don’t you try being grateful when things are going your way AND when they are not? Changing your mindset to find the good in each and every day will do wonders for your woe-is-me attitude.  You could start by making a list of everything that is going right.

Keep putting good out there, but don’t expect life to be a cinch.  Maybe, just maybe all the changes and “bad” things going on in your life are leading to something greater than you could ever imagine.  Don’t let your negativity get in the way.

Sincerely,

The Universe