A sample from Book 7
Knowing is Living
if you're stuck
at a place
know
there's reason
for your stay
the longer you wait
‒longer you'll suffocate
look deep in your face
beyond flesh and bone‒
beyond memories you chase
beyond hurt
you want to erase
beyond a past
that did not last
deeper you must go
for life
again
to flow
it's no one's race
but your own
when you're at
a constant steadfast
there's something
way down deep
you must surpass
something to grasp
‒learn
so a future
you can earn
stop complaining
living in emptiness
look at self
get off the damn shelf
you again
build
all else
seal
beyond face
look deeper
reveal your hidden secret
bloom
open your eyes
see
your new life is ready
waiting‒
‒a steady, slow pace
for you to take
nothing's at stake
but self
your inside wealth
listen...hear
for you've already earned
what in your heart
burns
your fruits‒
it's all up to you
(March 29, 2015)—[‘Knowing is Living’ was written November 27, 2014.] I’m on my [fourth] year…2012 (complete darkness), 2013 (a mixture), 2014 (more light than dark), 2015 (still no total of light).
For me, having fibro doesn’t help the healing get anywhere fast. Having PTSD doesn’t either. This is hard to talk about, hard to admit to myself, but it’s fact. I’ve struggled through jobs, struggled through several uninteresting semi-courtships. I thought I was ready for something a little longer. Nope. The PTSD handled that really quick.
As you can see from the date of this work, I was ready to sprout back in 2014, then I went back to teaching. Big mistake. After that I moved too fast in a courtship and now I’m here…sitting alone wondering WTF! I guess it’s time to listen to the mocking birds take care of yourself. At times, I’m not a good listener. Rereading this work clears my head a bit. Moving in with my daughter and getting rid of this big apartment expense…all leads to where I’ve been wanting to go for years.
I sent an email to the dean of the Creative Writing department at the local university asking for a informal meeting. I had applied back in 1997 to pursue my masters and PhD and was accepted on just my 30 pages of writing that I sent. I didn’t go, of course, because [x] asked me to work instead. Sacrifice made in vain.
So, I live right here, less than a 10-minute walk to the local university. I’ve been here [one] year and [six] months. It’s time for this big change. I’m scared to death, but everything seems to be leading up to this. My daughter came home last semester and said: Mom, my English professor got her PhD at age 70!Is that a final hint or what? I’m a good teacher. I think I’d be a good professor (a teacher without the long hours of a high school teacher) and I think it would propel my writing. So, I’m taking the next step. My only advice: Don’t be afraid.
Afraid has kept me locked in this apartment for almost a year. I did get out. I did open up and it got me locked down again. Why? Because self is not healed. So, don’t be like me and ignore…listen take care of self.
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