Day 64: A New Chapbook

Even though I already have 1 million things to do, I am so excited about this new project. Almost exactly, 1 month from today, I will be coming out with my first collection of poetry in over 10 years!

I got a call today from someone I met last Friday at the poetry event for YellowJacket Press.  He has his own independent local press and is hosting an event next month. One of the featured poets is not going to be able to make it and so he thought of me. Part of the deal is they will publish my book!

I have never been a writer seeking publication; my craft is performance. But I have thought in the past few years that it would be good to get some of my work out there on paper, that it would help expose my words to more readers. I just don't take the initiative. I've even had the editors of an literary magazines, upon hearing me recite somewhere (no doubt at a YellowJacket Press event) request me to submit work to their magazines. Have I, ever? NO.

So I take this opportunity as a divine request to get my literary ass in gear and put some work on paper.  I write because I want to share and as much as I talk about how we need to share at open mic, blah, blah, blah, I need not to be myopic in my sharing.  Yes, poetry is powerful when read out loud, but it can be just as powerful in the hands of another while they ponder your words in the silence of their heart. I see now that I need not to deny my words their power.

Day 63: Roommates who Garden

When I came home from work yesterday, this is what I saw out my bedroom window.

My roommates spent all day filling this new garden with new soil. They had put the border together a week or two ago, and have been growing some seeds in trays for a few weeks now. Almost before I knew it, things are ready to be put in the ground and now, look! There's some beautiful soil for them to go in. They inspire me to be less talk and anticipation, and more action and revelry.

I think a lot about growing stuff, but rarely actually make it out with shovel and seeds in hand ready to get dirty. There always seems to be plenty of stuff for me to do inside and then the sun goes down and its time for dinner and bed and maybe I will get to it tomorrow.  There is something to be said about doing now for what will fruit later. It takes a certain level of just enjoying the doing part.

So I am trying to do more for the sake of just doing, and not doing purely out of expectation of the fruits of the doing. I'm working on putting that home-grown salad that I may or may not be eating in a few months out of mind and just start enjoying digging in the sun.

Day 62: Full Day of Work

Though I, like most others, don't really want to work all day, I have to admit I have it pretty good. I had a full day of work yesterday, four clients, all in need and was at the office until 7pm on a Saturday. I took my forth client last minute and offered to extend my Saturday work day way later than usual, after already having a full day. It was one of those, "Well, because I like you, I will stay late." They are financially strained so I also saw them at 1/2 price.

I was a little worried that I'd feel resentful about working late for half of what I usually make. Lucky for me I absolutely LOVE what I do. By the end of the day I was feeling energized and accomplished and didn't even care about how much money I made by the end of the day.

I heard recently that happiness isn't about

getting more

but

having enough

. When our basic needs are not met, no food, shelter, or comfort, we are very unhappy. But beyond that, there's not much difference in the happiness levels of those who have enough versus those who have a lot. I'm not really sure where in that spectrum I fall, and I really don't care. Not only do I have enough, but I receive absolute joy out of what I do. Combine that with food on my table and a comfy bed and I'm ecstatic.  If I hated my job, I'd want more, but since I don't I can offer my service to those who need and be thankful for what they can give in return. Even if its not full price.

Day 61: Gianna Russo

One day while I was working at Sam Ash, many years ago, a guy came in to buy some things and we got to talking. He told me about this open mic near USF at what used to be Holiday Cafe. That guy probably has no idea that tip changed my life forever.

I started attending this regular Sunday night open mic and met my first poetry mentor, Charles Kory. Charles was in his first few years at USF and had graduated from the creative writing program at Blake High School.  Having listened to my poems for a few weeks, he said to me, "You know, you should go to Blake." I was already in my sophomore year at my neighborhood high school, but he told me that I can still get in my remaining years. So I took his advise and applied, a few months later I got accepted. 

My last two years of high school, I studied poetry with the teacher there, Gianna Russo. Gianna has been a staple of the poetry scene in Tampa for probably longer than I have been alive.  She helped me to write more, to write better, to help others become better writers through workshops. She took us to the Writer's Conference and guided us in the creation of chapbooks (small collections of poetry) our senior year.  My life was ever changed by those two years with her. I understood how the application of techniques to my self-expression created well-crafted poems, which often contained more truth than I was even aware of. It was through this process of creation that I felt a connection to something deeper. I would say in a small way, I felt like a mystic. Gianna was my experienced guide through these inner realms; she gave me the map to the intersection of my individual and the collective unconscious. She may not see herself this way, but for me, she was a shaman. 

Lucky for me, our relationship continued after high school. Almost 10 years later, I am a longstanding board member in her non-profit

YellowJacket Press

.  YJP publishes new chapbooks by Florida poets every year through two annual contests as well as hosts some of the best poetry events in Tampa. 

Though Gianna admirably hands credit over to her poets and students for their part in their creative work, but I will state right here that our love for our craft is no doubt infused with her belief in us. Though Gianna is not officially in the role of teacher for me, she still teaches me about community, dedication, and love of the arts. It is because of her the I KNOW that poetry can make the world a better place because I experience it.  She is just following her heart, but look at what beauty emerges from that. It's something that we all can learn from.   

Day 60: My TBI Clients

Years ago, I was hired by the VA hospital to come in twice a month to offer chair massage for family members in the poly-trauma unit. This meant mostly moms and wives of traumatic brain injury victims, who had left their lives from often across the country to be the main care-takers of their loved ones.  Talk about people that really need massage. There were  few who started to see me privately; several of them then asked if I could work on their son. This was how I began my experience with working with people suffering from a TBI.

It has now become one of my specialties. I have three clients I see regularly and cherish my time with them. These sessions have made me think outside the box of typical massage and learn how much communication can take place without words.  Though I can not "cure" them of their condition, or even guarantee that I can make them improve, it is obvious that they enjoy our sessions immensely. The mom of the client I saw today said once, "I think this is the only therapy that he really wants to come to."

These clients may not know it, but they teach me so much. Learning to connect with someone that can not talk, has severely limited mobility, and only sometimes is able to answer a yes or no question with gestures or facial expressions is possibly the most valuable lesson in human connection that I will ever get.

When I see them I have two main goals beyond relaxing them. The first is helping them to feel seen. Not just looking at the traumatized body in front of me, but the person within that. Though I am working with their body I left them know through words but mostly eye contact that I am acknowledging them as a person.  And it goes both ways, I know they see me too.

The second goal is to make them laugh. I'm no longer surprised by their ability to pick up subtle humor or remember a story I told them months ago. I know when they laugh I've connected with their spirit, and its in that moment they may forget their limitations or condition. Its in that moment that I do and all I see is a dear friend expressing joy.  

They've shown me that the way to deeply connect with another isn't through words or touch or anything that complicated. Looks and laughs, that's it.

Day 59: Sharing my Practice

Last night during my trying-to-be-more-consistent yoga practice, I had this moment of sudden wisdom. Occasionally, a thought comes into my head that feels too weighted to just be a thought. They are thoughts that can't be shook off or easily replaced by a new thought. They are thoughts that linger, steep, find their way into every bit of my body.  These are thoughts not to be ignored. These are more than thoughts, they are truth.

So last night, as I was moving from one pose to the next, it hit me: I chose to be spiritually alone. I don't think I really know the full truth of that statement, but there is something so right and almost comforting about this realization.

Without recounting the entirety of my spiritual life, I will state simply that I've felt alone through the journey. Maybe everyone does. Maybe that is the essence of the spiritual life. Maybe that is the fate of many of us living in a secular world without a secure and solid spiritual community around us. I don't know. But what I do know is that I've always felt out-of-place in some way. I've always longed for the spiritual community that I see others have, but I am unable to commit myself fully to any particular tradition. Usually, I say I am unaffiliated, which is a more neutral way of saying, "I'm spiritual, but just not religious."

In that flash that formed in my mind last night, I saw that so much of my life has been governed by this "

aloneness

" and I felt in that moment that it was not by chance or because of some wrongness with the world, but because there was a sacred choice I made when I come into this life that I would find my own path. It is amazing the power in recognizing one's choices.

Immediately after having that thought, I felt so thankful for my choice. I feel like I am free to find the divine in my own way, make up my own rituals, my own rites of passage, my own practices. I feel free instead of stranded.

***

I write this post in the aftermath of our second

Tea + Meditation

event. In all this aloneness, in cultivating the space within me, in my own way, I've found the profound connections this can create. Because I don't have a distinct community, all are my community. Tonight, nine of us shared a pot of tea and a moment together. All in our own space, yet we all affected the space for us all. I found myself saying, "You have a place, and that place is important." Then I hear the grandmother voice of wisdom within me whisper to the curious child beside her, "That means you too."

If I wasn't holding this space for others, those words wouldn't have emerged. They think I am leading the meditation, but I am being led too.

Day 58: Early Mornings

Most mornings I don't want to get out of bed. Not in the I'm-so-depressed-way but in the gosh-sleep-is-one-of-the-best-things-ever-please-more kind of ways. Being cuddled up under a blanket is one of probably my most favorite things in the world, especially after I've been laying there asleep for several hours. I'm warm, relaxed, a bit drowsy, nothing seems better than to keep sleeping.  It's amazing I ever get up at all. 

But, once I am up and moving, I feel so inspired by early mornings. It seems like more gets done and that it is easier to relax at the end of a day. It feels like it is the way a day was meant to be spent, seeing the full spectrum of the sun's hues, sunrise and sunset.  

I've been saying that I've been working on willing myself to be a morning person because I want to cherish the time of early morning.  I've gotten better but have longer to go. We will see how it goes tomorrow morning...

Day 57: Contemplation

I was blessed to get to spend some time this morning in contemplation. It is similar to time spend in the morning reading that I've also expressed a love for, but contemplation time is a bit different. It has some writing, some reading, some thinking, some moving, some breathing. Really I just allowed myself the time and space to explore "me."

Though I know and feel the immense importance of such time, I don't always end up with sufficient contemplation time.  But I made up for it today, and what do you know, I discovered a few things.

Where does your contemplation bring you?

Day 56: Un-perfectionism

Though I do prefer order and neatness over messy chaos, I am cool with some mess, enough to not consider myself a perfectionist. And I think that in the long run, it saves me a bunch of stress.

When I first got into doing decorative painting, I loved it so much and learned quickly that if I wanted to enjoy it for more than 5 min. I had to push aside my need to paint straight lines, or have the "right" colors, or even know all the details of the project.  It allowed me to make several super-creative pieces that I often gave away as gifts.  I noticed that those "mess-ups" that I might find I wanted to point out and apologize for were never noticed by anyone else.

Creation is mess, and almost everything is creation. If it's not creation, it is most likely destruction and we know that is messy. So then if something isn't messy, it's boring and possibly dead. I am grateful to be on the path of making peace with all this. But you know, that too, ain't neat either.

Day 55: Beach Weddings

Even more thankful for beach weddings the day after my birthday! My dear friend, Penny, got married yesterday at a cute place on St. Pete Beach. Since it was my birthday the day before I decided to turn it into a little weekend getaway.

And SO glad I did! The past year or so I've gotten a lot better at taking some time off every couple months. Because of the nature of my job, I rarely have weekends and end up doing some kind of work everyday. I've realized a direct correlation between my productivity and enjoyment of work with the frequency of "time off."  This weekend's relaxation, reconnection, and party time was just what I needed when I needed it.

Oh, and did I mention how much fun the it all was? So fun.