Soon, a haiku

Soon,” in what language?;

“Next week,” in what foreign tongue?;

lamentable words.

Stakeholders, responsibility, and telling my story

I recently pulled, re-tooled slightly, and re-posted a blog that sent someone off the deep end. While I always hope that what I write encourages thought, introspection, education, and other positive things… well, this was not one of those times. I second-guessed myself, my feelings, my own words, my own experiences because someone had such a visceral reaction. In the end, my knee-jerk reaction was no better than theirs: it was assumed by the other party that I had somehow done something wrong and I assumed that they had a point.

I most certainly did nothing wrong.

They most certainly did not have a point.

Still, I looked. I scoured. I read and re-read. I am careful to not use names unless I am given specific permission. I am careful to not divulge things that would otherwise point to someone and corner them through a medium over which they have no control. I make it clear, as much as humanly possible, that these are things in my life and that anything extra is just a bonus that I have been allowed to include.

Whether or not the re-tool goes over just as well… well, I really don’t have anything invested in whether or not someone likes it or not. In fact, I was provided the impetus to fix a few things to make it clear that these are my circumstances NOW. This is not a past life, this is not a lamentation of things lost. My blogging has to do with celebrating the here and now as much as possible. It is my heart, soul, and passion to feed through this outlet, and it is more than okay to expect me to be able to speak my mind and share of my life. I will continue to live my life how I need to live it. I will continue to write about it.

As it is my life and I am the one sharing it already… the onus to accept all of this isn’t on me. If we really break it down, it’s not really on anyone else, either.

TL; DR version: It’s my life, you don’t have to like it, accept it, or be in it.

Brain Dump: Projection, honesty and understanding that no one is a mind reader.

We all do it; we all project what we want, what we desire, what we hope, sending it out into the ether, the universe, or Twitter. Usually, and less obvious to our best selves, we project it upon others. I am guilty of it as well – though I am still struggling with the word “guilty” as the best description. Guilty makes it sound like it all needs to go away… and I am not so sure that’s the case.

This is a post, an admission, a missive long in the making. I have concentrated many experiences and conversations into this blog. Mostly based on my need to understand where I was both coming from and wanted to go. I have had the pleasure and privilege to meet some amazing people lately and I was running into similar conversations about relationships, connections, and idealized, fantastic expectations. They had to be based in something, so I started looking at how I talked to or about people in my life.
Read the rest of this entry

#NaPoWriMo :: A Second Look

An apology has changed my view,
if only slightly.

The pain still exists.

An apology, given freely.
Warranted, necessary, appropriate.
Required. Owed. Due.

Yet, unsolicited.

The pain still exists.

I am struggling with it, fearing it undermines all other personal growth.
It is warranted, necessary, and appropriate to use it, grow with it, not shrink away.
Abandoned, left, caught in the crossfire and left to wander. Wonder.
“I am far from okay… but I am okay.”
The pain still exists.
An apology with a desire to find my trust, to see it regained.
An offering of hope, of care, of respect.
An idea that humane, that human, that personal;
given freely.
The pain still exists…
… but an apology has changed my view
… if only slightly.

#NaPoWriMo :: The April Fool

A new month, a new chance at… what?
What did she want, what did she need;
a cocktail, a patio, a friend.

Feeling like she could not win,
missing that spark, that seed;
her thoughts a jumbled mess.

Her heart on the mend from injurious forays,
skeptical and thoughtful and fearful and brave.
Wishing, hoping, fighting, creating, being.

Having put her thoughts into the world,
having shared the feelings in her head;
now she waits. Baited breath.

She opened up and lays vulnerable,
scared of what will be said;
she asked. She cried out “When?!” and “Why?!”

She cried.

She tried.

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