Posts in Reflection
Soap-Box Banter

I wasn't published for any Shakespearean criticism this year. But, I did stand up on my soap-box about his legacy.

I also stood on my soap-box about feminism, education in America, the book I wrote that doesn't feel finished, my height, and a number of things in between. Except soap, ironically.

I stood on my soap box for so long that the topics I wanted to banter on, no longer were in fashion. Similar to my three year old brown knee-high boots paired with long white socks pulled sky high; meant to keep my legs warm when a skirt was selected over the more obvious choice of pants.

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Bubbles in the Stream

Find your own expression in the form. Even when doing the identical thing as someone else, you do it the way you would, not the way they would. Take care of the form and yourself in the expression. 

Boredom doesn’t exist in the meditative world, because boredom is wishing to do something else while waiting for something better to start. 

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Compulsion

I didn't know I had a nervous tick.
We rode the metro for a whole year - so I trained myself to put on chap stick when in large crowds.
My lips have been dry for six months since I stopped riding the metro, but I still shake my foot over my knee.

"Sit like a laaaady" - barks my mother, but she's the sweetest person I know.
Why did I think, "barks"?

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In Defense of the Participation Ribbon

The color of the ribbon is somewhat irrelevant to an eight year old. She doesn’t care if it’s regular blue (winner!) or light blue (participator!). It’s not the form of her triumph, it’s the matter - a slightly glossy strip of fabric purchased in bulk and stamped by mothers working in a small brown room that smells of chlorine. It’s okay to always see your name at the bottom of the lists taped to the dark green doors and to be the last one across the pool - as long as there’s that ribbon.

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The No Loving Yourself Movement

I may never love the all of myself. Nor do I think I will wholly love any one part of myself. I don’t believe that I have to love myself in order to love others because I do know real love. I guess the part of myself I love is my patience with others, but even that can dissipate quickly. I have wondered when I can give up on self love and have people leave me alone about it. Luckily my partner does not need me to feel any type of way about me or about him as long as we sail along comfortably; for the most part we do. Maybe I should start a movement--YOU DON’T HAVE TO LOVE YOURSELF TO BE HAPPY! 

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My Irish Eyes

Right now... I am sitting in the courtyard of a stable converted to living quarters, our housing for the week. A stone exterior frames a bright blue door, one of many brightly colored doorways in Ireland, predominantly red. It feels like optimism brightening the doorway of an otherwise grey facade. It feels like her people. There’s a cheerfulness everywhere, easy going, never stressed, always a kind word or turn about into a subtle joke making me smile. Underneath there’s a vein of sadness, from where I don’t know and can only speculate.

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What is Life in 10?

Someone recently asked me what L10 is. Ironically, I was at a loss for words. At least the right words to say at that moment. Because there are not enough words to describe what L10 is. But here, on this page, in 10 minutes, I will try to do it justice.

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The Best I Could Do

I always have the television on in the kitchen while I fix and eat my meals. This morning, Saturday, my usual weekday selections not available, I scanned through the HBO suite of channels even though I did not desire to commit to watching a whole movie. I came upon a documentary in progress about the school girls kidnapped by Boko Haram four years ago.

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