At least, I don't get angry very often. . . I much prefer the joy of agreeability and harmony. In general I am pretty laid back. Generally. Which is why it is always a surprise when I find myself in a state of fury! How did this happen? It is like a little monster that sneaks up behind me and then pounces unexpectedly. It bites its razor sharp teeth into the neck of my joy and sucks out every last drop of my remaining life force.
Well, that is an approximation. But, you get the idea. For those of us who don't like to get mad. Anger is a scary and dangerous beast!
The truth is I get angry. Things make me mad. But, I learned that you don't act it out. Quite rightly! But, just because we don't act on it doesn't mean it is not there. An interesting book called the Language of Feelings by Cal Banyan notes that there is always a message inside anger. Anger is like a little voice inside declaring there has been an injustice of some kind, real or perceived. And, here is the thing, we must be able to recognize injustices in order to best rectify them or make reparations. What we don't need is to then turn into a victim of the moment and lash out like a cornered animal. Feeling angry is part of being a healthy and discerning human being.
But, the second point of interest is the notion of anger signaling an injustice whether real or perceived. Our nervous system sadly doesn't know the difference (hence waking from a nightmare in a sweat--It was so real!). Our bodies respond to negative emotions the way they are designed to respond when we feel threatened: fight, flight or freeze. It's not an ideal situation, but it is the nature of our human biology.
The challenge of being angry at a perceived rather than real injustice is that we can't always address and resolve it like we might an external issue that is fixable. The perception is by nature internal. So, we are challenged to face the reality of ourselves and the often completely "unfair" nature of human existence. "Unfair" because we all suffer from something as humans which thus makes the universal nature of problems more or less "fair." But, of course, the severity and nature of our affliction or situation inevitably feels "unfair" because of its unique manifestation. Our ego shouts out "I shouldn't have to deal with this!"
The question is, what are we to do when we feel life isn't fair, but in fact, it is just part of the reality that "Shit (sometimes) Happens?" In order to walk a middle path between lashing out and stuffing our anger response in a closet-- I think we have to start with an honest account of what makes us angry -- even when we "know" it isn't personal, or unique to us, or even alterable for that matter. Detailing the issue(s) at hand can be extraordinarily helpful.
Here is my current list of things that make me mad (but which are not necessarily real injustices):
I am angry that I am tired.
I am angry that students don't know how to take notes or study or practice effectively.
I am angry that my two year old is quitting his afternoon nap.
I am angry that I suffer from unpredictable and sometimes uncontrollable depression.
I am angry that there will be dirty dishes everyday.
I am angry that the value of the arts and humanities in education is downplayed because their study doesn't make money.
I am angry that my computer runs slow.
I am angry that I can't do everything I want to do because there simply isn't enough time.
I am angry that my jaw and eyes are tired and painful because I hold my unspoken stress there.
I am angry because life doesn't always provide clear answers to my questions.
Now, some of these things are more ridiculous than others. On the other hand, some might actually have validity and could be at least indirectly addressed. But, the point is, that for someone who doesn't like to feel angry, I still suffer occasional and situational anger. This is ok. This has to be ok. Otherwise, I would sink into nihilism and be a potential hazard to myself and everyone around me.
This is where grace enters. In the form of hope, and faith, and love. We will experience rage, anger, and frustration at ourselves and the world. This anger can be so embarrassing for some of us that we would rather stifle it than risk revealing it. We fear we might lose hold of the tether and lose it all together. We stifle it and it shows up in other ways, in our bodies mostly, chronic hip pain, chronic headaches, addictions, depression and more. This is the work of David Schechter and his predecessor John Sarno who identify that roughly 90% of all chronic pain is psycho-somatic. Now, psycho-somatic does not mean that the pain is not real. Psycho-somatic pain is real pain, but it is triggered through our nervous system feedback rather than a physical injury.
Anger processing is one of the best inroads for "curing" chronic pain according to their work. And, I am apt to agree with them. Seeing our anger for what it is a much needed first step in healing ourselves and making ourselves whole.
What then is the antidote to our anger? For many of us it has to start with self-love and self-acceptance. We have to trust that we are not our anger and that we have worth even when we feel rage. When you are down in the dumps, it is hard to have faith in the tenant of inner goodness. Our Buddha nature seems far away in these dark times. But we can commune with others we can trust when we can't trust ourselves. We go to them for a meaningful reminder of hope and love. And when we can't find any person, we go to our animal friends or the tree in your garden or the fountain at the park. We commune with a life energy, until we can remember for ourselves that we have inherent worth and dignity. That we are worth a little forgiveness and a lot of love. That we can play a meaningful role in the world for ourselves and for others.
Hope is a precious thing. It is the pilot light that keeps us going in our darkest hour.
May you find peace today.
May you feel loved and valued.
May you have hope and may you shine your light for the world.
__/\__
Showing posts with label overwhelmed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label overwhelmed. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 12, 2019
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Being a better Over-Achiever
(Please note: I don't really consider myself an overachiever, but many of the people surrounding me tell me that I am, so, for the purposes of this post I am going with it. )
What I do consider myself is a "chronic over-scheduler/ double-booker." I proved this again just yesterday when I had promised to help out two friends at the same time by guest teaching in two places at once. I tell you it is nice to feel wanted, but it feels terrible to let people down.
One would think that proper calendar management would solve this problem, but, I am here to argue that something else is at the root of this: A complete misunderstanding of time.
I just figured out that "flexible time" is NOT "free time." Gasp!
In other words, I suffer from the misperception that having hours in the day that are "flexible" means that I have hours that are "free." So, I tend to operate under the misunderstanding that I can say "yes" to anything that comes along during those time frames, when in fact those hours may be needed for other things (or are already spoken for).
Now, I know that there are those of you out there who are thinking "Why doesn't she just look at her calendar?" "She must not be organized." " This seems like such an easy fix." I envy you, because if I thought like you I wouldn't have this problem in the first place. I have use a calendar, I tried to be organized, but still I let this happen.
I have experienced this over-scheduling, super busy, running-around-like-crazy, double-booking lifestyle over and over again. And, I believe it is because I THINK I have more time than I do and therefore don't feel the immediate need to reserve my flexible time, to make it un-free.
I am very fortunate to have a stable job teaching dance full time. And, if I ONLY taught my classes then I would have a lot of truly "free" time. But, I also wouldn't be fulfilled personally, and I would quickly become stale as an instructor who is not active in the art making process. So, I commit, commit, commit. I get honestly excited by the possibilities and opportunities in research, choreography, dancing, guest lecturing, presenting at conferences, writing online courses. . . the list goes on and on. But, it lands me in this wretched place of overcommitment time and time again.
After much thinking on the issue: Here are the goals I have developed in attempt to remedy this problem:
1. Learn to reserve at least a 2 hr block of time for organization (email, grading, planning, follow up).
2. Ask all commitment inquiries to be emailed to me (no exceptions!) so I can immediately check my computer calendar and see if in fact I am "free" AND whether it does not infringe on my 2 hour block of time for the day. (This email idea is courtesy of my sister in law, also artist and teacher).
3. Accept the reality that I simply cannot do it all. (I can achieve but not overachieve! I am only human.)
I will start there. But, still all of this depends on my ability to mentally accept and differentiate between the nature of having a flexible schedule and a free schedule. I have to see the open spaces on my calendar differently. I have to protect them even when it means disappointing someone I admire or care for. Maybe it sounds silly, but maybe there are some of you out there who feel the same way, always running around and often feeling like you are having to let people down because either, you didn't have time, didn't schedule properly or are just too stressed and tired to do a good job.
I am so ready to learn this lesson.
So, I have to get going, it is time to put this into practice.
Beth
What I do consider myself is a "chronic over-scheduler/ double-booker." I proved this again just yesterday when I had promised to help out two friends at the same time by guest teaching in two places at once. I tell you it is nice to feel wanted, but it feels terrible to let people down.
One would think that proper calendar management would solve this problem, but, I am here to argue that something else is at the root of this: A complete misunderstanding of time.
I just figured out that "flexible time" is NOT "free time." Gasp!
In other words, I suffer from the misperception that having hours in the day that are "flexible" means that I have hours that are "free." So, I tend to operate under the misunderstanding that I can say "yes" to anything that comes along during those time frames, when in fact those hours may be needed for other things (or are already spoken for).
Now, I know that there are those of you out there who are thinking "Why doesn't she just look at her calendar?" "She must not be organized." " This seems like such an easy fix." I envy you, because if I thought like you I wouldn't have this problem in the first place. I have use a calendar, I tried to be organized, but still I let this happen.
I have experienced this over-scheduling, super busy, running-around-like-crazy, double-booking lifestyle over and over again. And, I believe it is because I THINK I have more time than I do and therefore don't feel the immediate need to reserve my flexible time, to make it un-free.
I am very fortunate to have a stable job teaching dance full time. And, if I ONLY taught my classes then I would have a lot of truly "free" time. But, I also wouldn't be fulfilled personally, and I would quickly become stale as an instructor who is not active in the art making process. So, I commit, commit, commit. I get honestly excited by the possibilities and opportunities in research, choreography, dancing, guest lecturing, presenting at conferences, writing online courses. . . the list goes on and on. But, it lands me in this wretched place of overcommitment time and time again.
After much thinking on the issue: Here are the goals I have developed in attempt to remedy this problem:
1. Learn to reserve at least a 2 hr block of time for organization (email, grading, planning, follow up).
2. Ask all commitment inquiries to be emailed to me (no exceptions!) so I can immediately check my computer calendar and see if in fact I am "free" AND whether it does not infringe on my 2 hour block of time for the day. (This email idea is courtesy of my sister in law, also artist and teacher).
3. Accept the reality that I simply cannot do it all. (I can achieve but not overachieve! I am only human.)
I will start there. But, still all of this depends on my ability to mentally accept and differentiate between the nature of having a flexible schedule and a free schedule. I have to see the open spaces on my calendar differently. I have to protect them even when it means disappointing someone I admire or care for. Maybe it sounds silly, but maybe there are some of you out there who feel the same way, always running around and often feeling like you are having to let people down because either, you didn't have time, didn't schedule properly or are just too stressed and tired to do a good job.
I am so ready to learn this lesson.
So, I have to get going, it is time to put this into practice.
Beth
Friday, February 10, 2012
The Challenge of Doing Less
Sometimes the solution to a problem is not doing more but doing less. But, Uggh! Why is not doing something so much harder than doing something?
The whole "less is more philosophy" is certainly a principle I fully embrace in my choreography, but as I have been explaining in past blogs, it is something I have been struggling to embrace in my daily life. And, now I see the same epidemic in nearly everyone around me. It seems everyone is doing too much and has a hard time accepting that not doing something is the healthier more balanced option.
For instance, a student came to me with an injury (the 3rd in a list of recent injuries) wondering what else she could do to help it heal. I had to explain that her body wasn't hurting because it needed her to do more for it, but rather than it needed her to do less. To give it a rest and allow it to heal on its own.
But, when you are a busy bee (like this student and I are), you are used to taking an active role in all aspects of your life. Therefore, choosing to refrain or become passive is a tough pill to swallow. If only there was a real "tough pill" to swallow! That would be easier than suffering doing nothing at all. Because then, at least, you would be doing something.
So, I asked her when she had time to rest. She said Saturday she had nothing. . . only three hours of rehearsal. ONLY 3 hours of rehearsal?!? What is the world coming to that 3 hours of challenging dancing is nothing?
You can't rush healing, whether it be physical, emotional or psychological. Yet, if you are like me you want a quick fix (or at least a guaranteed fix), like "take this supplement 3x a day and you will be better, do this stretch before and after each class and you will feel like new in approximately a day and half." But, instead, the prescription is to stop, quiet yourself, listen and wait.
Meditation is exactly this. The practice of doing less.
Next time you feel imbalanced ask yourself: Does this concern call for doing more or doing less?
Chances are the harder option (whether it be more or less) is probably the right one.
The whole "less is more philosophy" is certainly a principle I fully embrace in my choreography, but as I have been explaining in past blogs, it is something I have been struggling to embrace in my daily life. And, now I see the same epidemic in nearly everyone around me. It seems everyone is doing too much and has a hard time accepting that not doing something is the healthier more balanced option.
For instance, a student came to me with an injury (the 3rd in a list of recent injuries) wondering what else she could do to help it heal. I had to explain that her body wasn't hurting because it needed her to do more for it, but rather than it needed her to do less. To give it a rest and allow it to heal on its own.
But, when you are a busy bee (like this student and I are), you are used to taking an active role in all aspects of your life. Therefore, choosing to refrain or become passive is a tough pill to swallow. If only there was a real "tough pill" to swallow! That would be easier than suffering doing nothing at all. Because then, at least, you would be doing something.
So, I asked her when she had time to rest. She said Saturday she had nothing. . . only three hours of rehearsal. ONLY 3 hours of rehearsal?!? What is the world coming to that 3 hours of challenging dancing is nothing?
You can't rush healing, whether it be physical, emotional or psychological. Yet, if you are like me you want a quick fix (or at least a guaranteed fix), like "take this supplement 3x a day and you will be better, do this stretch before and after each class and you will feel like new in approximately a day and half." But, instead, the prescription is to stop, quiet yourself, listen and wait.
Meditation is exactly this. The practice of doing less.
Next time you feel imbalanced ask yourself: Does this concern call for doing more or doing less?
Chances are the harder option (whether it be more or less) is probably the right one.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
All Riled Up and Ready for the Big Push
If I were pregnant, the title might mean something entirely different, but thankfully I am not pregnant and I am referring to the big push that happens twice every year. It is called "finals" time.
The "finals" themselves are not the problem, the problem is all the loose ends that have as of yet gone untied or un-severed and must be either tied or severed by the end of the next three weeks. And, the process of tying and severing as it goes (even when it goes "well") just plain sucks. It the worst part of teaching as many teachers know and agree.
What happens is: all the students realize 3 weeks out that they are screwed, and they all want you to do something about it. It is rough being the one to explain that they dropped the ball, that they did it to themselves and now they have to live with it. Not a fun conversation.
True, I am a softy. But, that is because I believe that I need a break every once in a while and therefore my students probably need a break too. I draw a hard line where it "matters." but I am basic just too darn empathetic. And, even if I don't give them leeway, I still find myself continually barraged with email or unsuspected visitors to my office hours who are desperate for an ear if nothing else.
I was a good student. Truth be told, I was an excellent student. I only ever got one B+. Ever. That is how determined to succeed I was. It has less to do with smarts and more to do with conviction. I wanted it, I wanted the information, I wanted to learn I wanted to grow and change and explore and write. So, the A was a natural result (most of the time). So, when it comes time to give out my grades. It hurts me to give out B's in a tap I or a modern I class, but I have to get over that. Not everyone tries as hard as I do, and frankly not every one gets the required results from their effort. Not everyone is "natural" at math and not everyone is "natural" at dance.
What am I doing here? You don't really care about this, or if you do (because you are a teacher) you already know exactly what I am talking about, and therefore I am preaching to the choir. The reality is, that I am writing this for my own benefit. As I write this blog, I am trying to convince myself to let go. To ride the last wave of the semester like a relaxed surfer instead of a nervous and rigid grandma.
I have a lot to do. And tonight, I calendared out the rest of the semester. Probably not the best thing to do right before trying to go to bed. Now, I am all riled up. Anxious to get the work done that has to get done whether there is time for it or not.
I tell myself: "Everything I do now, I don't have to do later." And, this motto helps. But, at 11:30 pm when it is time to sleep, I shouldn't be considering going online to grade. I just shouldn't. Those papers will have to wait another day.
But those days are running out.
Oh, the sound of the ocean.
The "finals" themselves are not the problem, the problem is all the loose ends that have as of yet gone untied or un-severed and must be either tied or severed by the end of the next three weeks. And, the process of tying and severing as it goes (even when it goes "well") just plain sucks. It the worst part of teaching as many teachers know and agree.
What happens is: all the students realize 3 weeks out that they are screwed, and they all want you to do something about it. It is rough being the one to explain that they dropped the ball, that they did it to themselves and now they have to live with it. Not a fun conversation.
True, I am a softy. But, that is because I believe that I need a break every once in a while and therefore my students probably need a break too. I draw a hard line where it "matters." but I am basic just too darn empathetic. And, even if I don't give them leeway, I still find myself continually barraged with email or unsuspected visitors to my office hours who are desperate for an ear if nothing else.
I was a good student. Truth be told, I was an excellent student. I only ever got one B+. Ever. That is how determined to succeed I was. It has less to do with smarts and more to do with conviction. I wanted it, I wanted the information, I wanted to learn I wanted to grow and change and explore and write. So, the A was a natural result (most of the time). So, when it comes time to give out my grades. It hurts me to give out B's in a tap I or a modern I class, but I have to get over that. Not everyone tries as hard as I do, and frankly not every one gets the required results from their effort. Not everyone is "natural" at math and not everyone is "natural" at dance.
What am I doing here? You don't really care about this, or if you do (because you are a teacher) you already know exactly what I am talking about, and therefore I am preaching to the choir. The reality is, that I am writing this for my own benefit. As I write this blog, I am trying to convince myself to let go. To ride the last wave of the semester like a relaxed surfer instead of a nervous and rigid grandma.
I have a lot to do. And tonight, I calendared out the rest of the semester. Probably not the best thing to do right before trying to go to bed. Now, I am all riled up. Anxious to get the work done that has to get done whether there is time for it or not.
I tell myself: "Everything I do now, I don't have to do later." And, this motto helps. But, at 11:30 pm when it is time to sleep, I shouldn't be considering going online to grade. I just shouldn't. Those papers will have to wait another day.
But those days are running out.
Oh, the sound of the ocean.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Tech Week Tantrum
Part of my job at Moorpark College is directing the fall dance concert. As with most projects, I love-love-love the creative process. The brainstorming of ideas and excitement of new creative possibilities. I love the promise of potential that fills the air at the inception of a project or concert. I dream big. I like to revolutionize myself and the process each chance I get. I can't help but want to push the envelope, push my limits and try something I have never done before.
But, this stage of the concert process is long gone. And, when I reach this point of no return (7 days before the concert) I can't help but think. "What was I thinking?"
This concert I have choreographed a fun and ridiculously fast tap dance, a physically demanding and powerful modern dance trio and a crazy, large ensemble piece (complete with strange walks, trench coats, boots and screaming).
Did I mention I dream big?
The thing that I am learning is that my creativity is in some ways its own vice. I can't help but get excited about new ideas, creative trains of thought, and potential "awesomeness" in general. I love to generate ideas, ways of working, aesthetic systems, choreographic projects.
But then it comes time to do it and actually make it happen. And, I find myself here in "Tech Week"!
For those of you outside of the performing arts, Tech Week is the time the production uses to move into the theater, set lights, practice with costumes and generally go mad from fatigue at that same time.
Admittedly I write in anticipation. Tech week technically starts tomorrow. But, as always, it promises long hours in a dark theater, after which your butt is numb, and you can't quite remember what day it is, if you need to eat, nor if you went to bathroom in the last 5 hours. It is not all that terrible. It can actually be fun. But it is (or at least has been) always exhausting. Imagine functioning on adrenaline and caffeine for 12 hours straight but not being able to go any where or see the light of day for three days straight.
And, who am I to complain? The technicians do this all day long each and everyday, project and project, production after production. But, I am to a point in my life where I have become more protective of my energy and health. I am less willing to burn myself out the way I used to. I guess I have learned that the production "hang over" just isn't worth it.
Life goes on after a dance concert just as it did before. Yet, the show will not make itself. It takes time and energy, focus and patience. It takes hope, creativity, and diligence. Perseverance perhaps most of all.
I want to find a way that I can enjoy Tech. Am I crazy to think it might actually be possible to put on a dance concert and not lose my mind or sacrifice my physical health? I have reached a point where I no longer want to push through. I don't want to just "make it happen." I don't want to live my life wishing these next two weeks were already over, when this is what I love to do.
I want to love it while I am in it. Not just before and after.
It is time for me to make some changes in how I work. I want to teach the dancers that it feels good to work, create and perform (and it feels best when you don't kill yourself in the process). The reward needs to be in the process. My students run themselves so ragged that I am afraid they miss the entire experience. Sure they always "get through." But they are sleep walking through it all.
I know because I was too.
It is time to wake up.
But, this stage of the concert process is long gone. And, when I reach this point of no return (7 days before the concert) I can't help but think. "What was I thinking?"
This concert I have choreographed a fun and ridiculously fast tap dance, a physically demanding and powerful modern dance trio and a crazy, large ensemble piece (complete with strange walks, trench coats, boots and screaming).
Did I mention I dream big?
The thing that I am learning is that my creativity is in some ways its own vice. I can't help but get excited about new ideas, creative trains of thought, and potential "awesomeness" in general. I love to generate ideas, ways of working, aesthetic systems, choreographic projects.
But then it comes time to do it and actually make it happen. And, I find myself here in "Tech Week"!
For those of you outside of the performing arts, Tech Week is the time the production uses to move into the theater, set lights, practice with costumes and generally go mad from fatigue at that same time.
Admittedly I write in anticipation. Tech week technically starts tomorrow. But, as always, it promises long hours in a dark theater, after which your butt is numb, and you can't quite remember what day it is, if you need to eat, nor if you went to bathroom in the last 5 hours. It is not all that terrible. It can actually be fun. But it is (or at least has been) always exhausting. Imagine functioning on adrenaline and caffeine for 12 hours straight but not being able to go any where or see the light of day for three days straight.
And, who am I to complain? The technicians do this all day long each and everyday, project and project, production after production. But, I am to a point in my life where I have become more protective of my energy and health. I am less willing to burn myself out the way I used to. I guess I have learned that the production "hang over" just isn't worth it.
Life goes on after a dance concert just as it did before. Yet, the show will not make itself. It takes time and energy, focus and patience. It takes hope, creativity, and diligence. Perseverance perhaps most of all.
I want to find a way that I can enjoy Tech. Am I crazy to think it might actually be possible to put on a dance concert and not lose my mind or sacrifice my physical health? I have reached a point where I no longer want to push through. I don't want to just "make it happen." I don't want to live my life wishing these next two weeks were already over, when this is what I love to do.
I want to love it while I am in it. Not just before and after.
It is time for me to make some changes in how I work. I want to teach the dancers that it feels good to work, create and perform (and it feels best when you don't kill yourself in the process). The reward needs to be in the process. My students run themselves so ragged that I am afraid they miss the entire experience. Sure they always "get through." But they are sleep walking through it all.
I know because I was too.
It is time to wake up.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
In Over My Head. Again.
I agree to things before I realize exactly what that means. I throw caution to the wind an say yes regardless if I am either:
a) am capable
or
b) have the time
It is my modus operandi really. It seems to be what makes me tick (and go crazy all at the same time). So, while I am prepping for 3 presentations I will be giving at the next NDEO conference (National Dance Educators Organization), producing a dance concert, choreographing 3 pieces on my students, planning a special halloween tap dance performance for my Tap I class, and finishing a 52 minute dance piece for my company. . . .
(inhale)
I have also agreed to go on a poetry tour.
Let me remind you that I am not really a poet. Sure I call myself a poetess. But that is more of a dream identity that an actual one. I write poetry because I know nothing about it, how to do it, history of it nor whether I am making a complete ass of myself. Basically, I do it because I can write really bad poems and have no real-life repercussions. It is just fun.
Well. Until now.
Now, I am obligated. I am actually going to have to write something that I will then memorize and perform in front of unsuspecting audiences in the Bay Area next May. I hope they aren't paying. But I am getting ahead of myself.
What plague me currently is a project we poets are organizing to raise funds for the trip. A Poet/Pinup Calendar. Yes, you read right! We poets from the ages of roughly 20 to about 70 will be dressing up for your pleasure (and belly laughter) in a brand-spanking-new 2012 calendar. Oh, yeah.
Alas, our theme is fantastic: S/heroes and Villians.
I have decided to be a Garden S/hero. Mostly because I like dressing in gingham and like getting dirty. None of this troubles me. I can put on fake eyelashes and hold a bunch of carrots, no problem. The hitch comes in that I have to write a garden poem to go along with my Garden Hero character. And, I have yet to even try.
So, I hereby dedicate myself to writing at least one garden poem a day and posting it here for your reading pleasure (and daily laughter medicine -- because it may be funny or more likely so bad you will have to laugh out of pity). I promise they will be terrible, perhaps ridiculous, funny if I'm lucky, irrational and only maybe good. Read because it will make you feel good about yourself and your own art. Let me be your sacrificial lamb to the creative gods. I don't mind, really.
The poem needs to be done by Halloween. So, I had better get crackin'.
Garden Poem #1
Bugs
Again
They seem to be of a different variety
Not quite the usual white aphids or black beetles
Brown spiders of Black widows
I like the tarantulas I see every once in a while.
Crawling.
Fuzzy. Kind of Cute.
No, these bugs are blue.
Unlike any bug I've ever seen.
Creeping in
Nesting under leaves in invisible webs of confusion
The garden soil gives them all the nutrients they need
Fertile, dark, moist and healthy
They feed on whatever crosses their paths
But I never see them swallow
They grow and multiply whether I ignore them
or expose their bellies to the sun.
It doesn't make sense
Sensing time pass
They are blue
But blue sometimes feel closer to black
Patterns obscured by morning moods and recently upturned soil
Deep blue.
Blue of a time that does not fit in today
Shiny exoskeleton, armored from my pesticides of care
This bug,
Bugging me
On days
Making days I don't want
Days that make my Hydrangeas wilt and my zucchini leaves turn yellow
I take my spade and fight them off
Falling through the finger of my rake
Not to be captured
Not to be tamed
I feed my plants with extra Nitrogen
but even the lavender grows crisp and brittle from their bites
Blue bug
Deep blue and shiny
Hiding in shadows
Mocking me on my sunny sidewalk.
I throw down the shovel
I dedicate tomorrow to stamping you out.
But today
is blue.
(Didn't expect it to take that turn. Did I mention I just write poems without editing them? Well, I do. I just let them flow. So, this is what you got for now. But. . . at least the poem is done for the day.)
a) am capable
or
b) have the time
It is my modus operandi really. It seems to be what makes me tick (and go crazy all at the same time). So, while I am prepping for 3 presentations I will be giving at the next NDEO conference (National Dance Educators Organization), producing a dance concert, choreographing 3 pieces on my students, planning a special halloween tap dance performance for my Tap I class, and finishing a 52 minute dance piece for my company. . . .
(inhale)
I have also agreed to go on a poetry tour.
Let me remind you that I am not really a poet. Sure I call myself a poetess. But that is more of a dream identity that an actual one. I write poetry because I know nothing about it, how to do it, history of it nor whether I am making a complete ass of myself. Basically, I do it because I can write really bad poems and have no real-life repercussions. It is just fun.
Well. Until now.
Now, I am obligated. I am actually going to have to write something that I will then memorize and perform in front of unsuspecting audiences in the Bay Area next May. I hope they aren't paying. But I am getting ahead of myself.
What plague me currently is a project we poets are organizing to raise funds for the trip. A Poet/Pinup Calendar. Yes, you read right! We poets from the ages of roughly 20 to about 70 will be dressing up for your pleasure (and belly laughter) in a brand-spanking-new 2012 calendar. Oh, yeah.
Alas, our theme is fantastic: S/heroes and Villians.
I have decided to be a Garden S/hero. Mostly because I like dressing in gingham and like getting dirty. None of this troubles me. I can put on fake eyelashes and hold a bunch of carrots, no problem. The hitch comes in that I have to write a garden poem to go along with my Garden Hero character. And, I have yet to even try.
So, I hereby dedicate myself to writing at least one garden poem a day and posting it here for your reading pleasure (and daily laughter medicine -- because it may be funny or more likely so bad you will have to laugh out of pity). I promise they will be terrible, perhaps ridiculous, funny if I'm lucky, irrational and only maybe good. Read because it will make you feel good about yourself and your own art. Let me be your sacrificial lamb to the creative gods. I don't mind, really.
The poem needs to be done by Halloween. So, I had better get crackin'.
Garden Poem #1
Bugs
Again
They seem to be of a different variety
Not quite the usual white aphids or black beetles
Brown spiders of Black widows
I like the tarantulas I see every once in a while.
Crawling.
Fuzzy. Kind of Cute.
No, these bugs are blue.
Unlike any bug I've ever seen.
Creeping in
Nesting under leaves in invisible webs of confusion
The garden soil gives them all the nutrients they need
Fertile, dark, moist and healthy
They feed on whatever crosses their paths
But I never see them swallow
They grow and multiply whether I ignore them
or expose their bellies to the sun.
It doesn't make sense
Sensing time pass
They are blue
But blue sometimes feel closer to black
Patterns obscured by morning moods and recently upturned soil
Deep blue.
Blue of a time that does not fit in today
Shiny exoskeleton, armored from my pesticides of care
This bug,
Bugging me
On days
Making days I don't want
Days that make my Hydrangeas wilt and my zucchini leaves turn yellow
I take my spade and fight them off
Falling through the finger of my rake
Not to be captured
Not to be tamed
I feed my plants with extra Nitrogen
but even the lavender grows crisp and brittle from their bites
Blue bug
Deep blue and shiny
Hiding in shadows
Mocking me on my sunny sidewalk.
I throw down the shovel
I dedicate tomorrow to stamping you out.
But today
is blue.
(Didn't expect it to take that turn. Did I mention I just write poems without editing them? Well, I do. I just let them flow. So, this is what you got for now. But. . . at least the poem is done for the day.)
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