Meditation
When I was in first grade, I wrote stories for show and tell. I didn't have any good 'stuff' and even back then I felt that what I could say and do was more important than any material object. It turned out that I picked a good year to let my love for writing blossom. I was selected to be part of some workshop where this author came and talked to us all about writing. I have no idea who the author was and most of what he said went over my head. I do remember he had a very hippy look about him...long hair and sixties attire. Only 4 children were chosen from each school district and most of them were older. But I was selected. And it changed me...not because I learned anything from him. But because my writing was considered special, it made me different, set me apart.
We made a special book of writing from all the students who were part of the experience. This author told us each to contribute atleast one poem to the book. I was in first grade, I wrote a poem about geese. It had so little meaning on a grand scheme...it was about some birds flying in a formation going to a destination that seemed like forever away from me in my little world.
I've thinking about that poem today. Back then, I was naive to how my parents drinking affected me. I hated the violence but I think I still had a lot of innocence in spite of it. In first grade, I wrote a poem about some geese because it hadn't occured to me that my parents would die eventually, I didn't even know what sex was, much less the pain and heartache and life lessons and joy and ecstacy that could be associated with it. It hadn't dawned on me that I'd probably have children or see friends die or face illnesses and pray for God to let me survive.
Now, I'm 31 and I'm spending alllll this time...insane amounts of time...wishing that I could go back to a simpler time when the only thing I could think to write about was Geese. There is a certain irony that I wrote about creatures experiencing something I couldn't truly comprehend and now that I know what it's like to fly...I'd rather be that six year old kid looking up in the sky dreaming of far off places.
My current hope: That I will learn to embrace life just as it is. In the here and now. And let home be inside of me. That I will gain my security by living in this moment and draining every single drop of life from it that I can. That I will let myself feel the wind against my face instead of wishing I had never even learned to fly in the first place.
We made a special book of writing from all the students who were part of the experience. This author told us each to contribute atleast one poem to the book. I was in first grade, I wrote a poem about geese. It had so little meaning on a grand scheme...it was about some birds flying in a formation going to a destination that seemed like forever away from me in my little world.
I've thinking about that poem today. Back then, I was naive to how my parents drinking affected me. I hated the violence but I think I still had a lot of innocence in spite of it. In first grade, I wrote a poem about some geese because it hadn't occured to me that my parents would die eventually, I didn't even know what sex was, much less the pain and heartache and life lessons and joy and ecstacy that could be associated with it. It hadn't dawned on me that I'd probably have children or see friends die or face illnesses and pray for God to let me survive.
Now, I'm 31 and I'm spending alllll this time...insane amounts of time...wishing that I could go back to a simpler time when the only thing I could think to write about was Geese. There is a certain irony that I wrote about creatures experiencing something I couldn't truly comprehend and now that I know what it's like to fly...I'd rather be that six year old kid looking up in the sky dreaming of far off places.
My current hope: That I will learn to embrace life just as it is. In the here and now. And let home be inside of me. That I will gain my security by living in this moment and draining every single drop of life from it that I can. That I will let myself feel the wind against my face instead of wishing I had never even learned to fly in the first place.