American Dream

There is no rest for the weary
day turns into night
night turns into day

we are zombies, us all
walking through the streets with our breath sagging, our knuckles raw
from pounding against the steel of your vault
dark circles like swirls of smoke around our eyes
you've got us looking like raccoons
in a world run by buffoons
no prospects
no respect
so do we reject
the dream you've been selling?

dream
I wish I could
my eyes try and try
but my mind knows
if I rest I die
cause that's the way u made the game
and so I spend each day the same
watching my blacks turn grays
until I forge a new path out of the haze

and when I do
I will see what you didn't want me to see
that I don't need you... NO!...
you are the one who needs me
so there it is--now it is clear
why you spin the way you do,
why you got our hands stuck like glue
to the metal of the machine
but I wash my hands clean of the dream you are selling

instead I will blaze my own trail
one where you have not set me up to fail
and I will be the first
if I don't lose my thirst
if I don't let my eyes win
if I don't let the doubt in
if I don't hear you say
I cannot go that way
if I keep my mind clear
Then will MY dream be here
and, then, I will laugh at the sleep i lost
and how much of my life it cost
trying so hard to break into you
because I never even needed to

A Bookworm on Broadway

I saw a boy on the street today while I was walking home. He cradled a sizable stack of books in his arms, holding them just as a young child would his favorite stuffed animal to sleep with. He was not a particularly handsome boy, there was nothing out of the ordinary about him that would have normally caught my eye, except the way he was holding the books and one thing more-- the look of complete and utter joy on his face. I could tell the joy he was experiencing had something, if not everything, to do with those books. I thought it was such an odd, yet refreshing, picture to take in. Rarely do I see a teenager (or so he appeared) get excited about anything, much less, a stack of books. So, I carried that picture with me in my mind the rest of the way home and thought about the boy all the while. I wondered, what it was in those books that could put such a smile on that boy's face. Was it that they entertained him? Was it that they provided an escape to other worlds or deeper dimensions of his imagination? Was it that they contained knowledge he was seeking? I could only speculate. What my conclusion of the matter came to be is that I had no idea. But, what I do know is that it didn't really matter either way. Why? Because either way, the words written in them and the boy, himself, would become one and the same.

Who he will be in the future will be determined, in part, by what he has taken in from the world around him, as well as what was written in those books. They will be absorbed ...their messages forever grafted into his DNA--shaping his perspectives on life and death and everything in between. Maybe that was the source of joy, then, knowing that he had just taken one more step towards the person he is to be and maybe he was excited to catch a glimpse of what that person looks like. Maybe my conclusion is wrong and I am making something simple into something complex, but it was a thought--and it was one that made me think about the things I have taken in, the words from voices past that have moved me and have been grafted into my DNA along the way, molding me into the person I am. It is fascinating to reflect on. But, what is even more fascinating to me is how much of the process of absorbing our world of messages is done without us ever being truly conscious of it happening. Makes me want to really be mindful, then, of what I surround myself with...what messages I allow to cross my path...to the extent that I can...so that the better, brighter things, the things that inspire, the things that strengthen, the things that challenge, the things that improve are the things that become one with me.

Perfect Moments: The Men in My Life

Today's moment...



Me, walking down the hallway from our room to the living room. All the lights off in the house. As I walk down, I hear my son singing a dreamy ballad-type song that he made himself, in a high-pitched, falsetto voice. I'm not sure what all the lyrics are, but I do hear him repeat the words "the magic in your heart" a few times. I follow his little voice until I reach the living room. There he is, looking out the window, up at the fireworks in the night sky. His daddy, standing next to him, also looking out the window. As I draw near, my husband and I share a look that says, "that's our son singing that beautiful little song in such a beautiful little voice." His dad, amused and proud. Me, on the verge of tears. Why? You mean, besides the fact that I am a woman?

Well, it is just one of those nights, one of those brief moments when you feel the fullness of the love you have for your child....it swells up in you...and you wish, "man, if only we could slow life down and keep him here, just as he is in this very moment." But, then, you realize that is impossible...and maybe a bit selfish. So, you try to take the moment in, take in every last bit, before it passes and becomes a memory that will come to visit you on those "firsts"---first days of kindergarten, first time he broke a bone, first time he walked home on his own, first time he drove the car, first day at college, first day he fell in love, first day he became a father...so many firsts---- when he takes those BIG steps away from being the kid singing in the window and closer to the man he will become. I love my son and I am just so thankful that I have lived long enough and was fortunate enough to have met him and hope I am fortunate enough to meet him in the future, once more, not as a child but as a man.

Perfect Moments: The Bath

Today's moment...

My son went to bed early today, so I decided to spend the extra time in the evening taking a nice, long bath. Lights off, except one candle. No music. I sat there for what seemed like forever, my thoughts drifting in and out of my mind until there were no thoughts left and my eyelids, then able to relax, slowly began to close. I found myself in that strange, in-between-sleep-and- awake stage where you know you are awake, you can hear what is going on around you, but at the same time you aren't really there. I felt peace....no worries....no tension in my body....nothing, just peace. I opened my eyes after a time and the thoughts came back, only this time they were quieter and kinder. I will have a good night's rest tonight. Thankful.

Perfect Moments: Chocolate

Today's moment....



After a routine day at home with my son, a little piece of chocolatey heaven to make the end of it sweet. Thank you to my husband who is thoughtful enough and has the foresight to buy me not one, but TWO, big organic, dark chocolate bars to hide away from Isaiah as a special..only for me treat:). Nice.

Perfect Moments: catch 22

Today's moment moved like a snail...in slow motion



Today I was in a crowded place, filled with noise. Babies were crying, music was playing, people were laughing. Everything around me was in fast motion. Suddenly, everything slowed down and I was able to see each individual person separate from the others. I studied them all carefully and was able to catch a brief glimpse into each person's story---who they were, why they were there, what kind of life they had lived, what kind of life they might live in the future. It was a very surreal, vivid moment.

Even though it happened in a split second, I thought about it most of the rest of my day---what people were wearing, their features, the way they walked. Each person, innumerably different from the other, yet underneath it all, there are these common threads that keep the stitches of the fabric of humanity intact. Although it, for certain, happens in varying degrees and circumstances, every single person that passed me today has at one point experienced loss, kindness, cruelty, hope, hopelessness, elation, excitement, and a myriad of other states of being and emotions. It was in thinking on this when I felt like I had been given a great gift--the ability to see that there is not one of us that can say, "I am special." Because we all are...but that, in turn, means that we also are not. It is a catch 22. The greatest potential for peace lies in our ability to acknowledge and appreciate our differences while we increase our awareness of and reflection on our "sameness".

Perfect Moments: Deep Conversation with a 3 year old

Today's moment....



My son and I were eating dinner at the table when I was telling him about things I used to do when I was little. Then, he asked me if he was there and I told him no...that he didn't even exist at that time. He paused for a moment, then said, "Oh, so I was in your belly huh?" And I tried to explain to him again that he was not around at all when I was little. He looked at me with a crazy look and threw up his hands. "Well, then where the heck was I?," he asked. He had this baffled look on his face like he could not understand how there was a time when he didn't exist. Then, I could see the wheels turning. He continued, "How did I get here?" I could tell he wasn't looking for a birds and bees explanation, he was asking in a more philosophical tone of voice. He wondered how could something ever not exist.

Instead of answering right away and giving him my assumptions on the topic, I let him sit for a while and sort it out in his head. He came up with a few hypotheses. 1) Maybe mommy and daddy said, "abra cadabra" and used magic to make him appear 2) Maybe he existed in space somewhere before he was born 3) Maybe he was inside some food and he came out like a seed 4) Maybe he was an alien before and now he was a boy.

After he gave some of his own thoughts on the subject, I gave him a few ideas of what other answers other people have come up with in the past (e.g. the big bang theory, creationism, evolution, via actions taken by various gods). I didn't want to tell him one was right and the others wrong. I did not want to give him the assumptions/ideas I have come up with over time. I just wanted him to get an idea of what was out there so that he could compare them to his own ideas and have something to think on. He listened and then, after a short time, he put his foot up in the air and said...."Mom, look at my stinky feet!" It made me laugh. Although I am glad to see my son is getting old and wise enough to think about the BIG questions, I am glad he can still, simply, be a silly kid.