A Poem a Day, Week 22, May 28 to June 3, 2022
by Emily Gibson, May 28, 2022
talk yourself
off the ledge,
don’t get upset,
do the right thing.
Take it as it comes,
moment by moment.
Don’t get lost
in the weeds.
It’s that simple.
Poem #149, My Proper Human Work
by Emily Gibson, May 29, 2022
Give me work that feeds my soul,
Tests my wits, and makes me whole.
A job that needs to be done
But not just by any ole’ someone.
I wish my hire would be required
For all the skills I’ve acquired.
Perhaps using the beauty of words?
Or knowledge of nature and birds?
Helping people, their purpose to find,
Or realize what is true in their mind…
It’s all well and good to me,
With frequent breaks under a tree.
Please, make it pass my stress test
So I can do the hours without rest.
And if the pay is good and steady,
Tomorrow I will be ready!
Desire for proper human work, you see,
Is the root of my wholehearted plea.
About "My Proper Human Work": This poem came off of the previous, "Keep it Simple" poem, as I thought more about my proper work. This poem is essentially my love letter to the universe, containing my hopes for finding the "next thing" that will feed my soul, my horse, and me.
Poem #150, Busyness is not a Virtue
by Emily Gibson, May 30, 2022
Busyness is not a virtue,
my mother often admonished.
Despite her best efforts,
the world I was born into
inculcated me to DO,
and trapped me
in a forest of shoulds.
Stepping off the carousel
of misguided purpose
takes courage, indeed.
There are no lights
illuminating the way,
no reliable maps,
and any self-promoted
tour guide is misguided,
misdirected, or both.
You will stumble,
you will trip,
your shoulders will shudder
with self-doubt,
your feet will wander in loss.
Just keep asking:
What am I doing?
Why am I doing this?
Where will doing this take me?
If you don’t have an answer
that feels true to you,
Stop.
Listen to the birds.
Remember your song,
the reason you were born.
Then, try again.
About "Busyness is not a Virtue": The third poem about finding my purpose, this one also has roots in a meditation from The Daily Stoic. The three questions, "What am I doing, Why am I doing it, and Where will it take me?" came directly from the May 30th entry in the book. I appreciate how my mom's words of wisdom mirrored ancient Greek philosophers! I well remember my mom trying to influence the choices I made with my time and energy when I was in my 20s and 30s. Only now, in my 50s, do I truly understand. I start to feel that my MS was the catalyst for finally stepping off the carousel of our society's shoulds.
Poem #151 Illusions of Normal
by Emily Gibson, May 31, 2022
There’s no return to normal
Because normal is just illusion
Wrested from disparate events
And the numbness of routine.
There is no return to normal
When you are gifted disease--
For the negation of ease
Shatters all pretense of illusion.
There is no return to normal,
Since normal required distance,
To push and cajole the body
In ignorance of its needs.
There is no return to normal,
Or creation of a new normal,
Except mindfulness, presence,
And being in the moment.
About "Illusions of Normal": The fourth in this week's series on purpose and work, this poem explores the notion of "back to normal." Something that people often say at the end of a long trip, or as a goal after a major disruption in life, like an illness. Through the process of reflection and work that emerged in my quest for wellness, I came to a new awareness of normal, which I tried to capture with these words. Being in the moment, accepting what has come with the day, that is my most viable path to contentment and health
Poem #152, Light
by Emily Gibson, June 1, 2022
You think you know the color white
until a freshly snow-capped mountain
pops out against storm-plump black skies.
Okay, that’s white!
But then a brand new calf startles you
with its pristine face framed in black fur.
Oh, well then, that’s white!
Interesting how the color that
contains all colors of light
intensifies
when contrasted against the color that
is the absence of any light.
Yet any individual color against black
Requires illumination of sunlight
to stand out.
About "Light": While moving about my day, I saw our local Cascades, newly coated with snow, set against a backdrop of storm-heavy skies. The line, "You think you know white" came to me. The last bit about individual colors needing light refers to when I saw some green trees against the same storm sky. Only the ones in sunbeams stood out, the others disappeared into the gray. I enjoyed exploring what science tells us about visible light, and how that plays out in real life.
Poem #153, Stuck
by Emily Gibson, June 2, 2022
To be stuck in a world
of worry,
for a horse,
is to be never at
rest,
even when
standing still.
About "Stuck": While riding my horse, Ber, who is the epitome of calm these days at the age of 19, I watched a horse new to the ranch. It came in for training with Charley. This horse, also 19, was carrying so much worry, it was beside itself, even when tied. My heart hurt for this horse. All horses seek peace, but this one didn't seem to even know that peace was possible. Hopefully time with Charley will help, as it certainly did for Ber.
Poem #154, Pride
by Emily Gibson, June 1, 2022
Pride.
The rainbow shows
all colors as stripes
of visible light,
teased apart when
bent through a prism, rain,
or the sheer mist of a waterfall.
Each color adds to the world;
the absence of each
leaves us a hole of darkness.
So too all the stripes
of our primate species.
Some ask, why focus
attention on our differences?
Doesn’t that divide us?
Aren’t we all really the same?
Differences are made invisible
if we don’t know them,
like a color is unseen
without a name.
We must filter humanity
through the prism of identity.
Thus, everyone will be
seen.
Only then will all be safe
OUT of the prism.
About "Pride": This poem began when I wrote "Light" earlier in the week. What was on my mind and in my heart was the beginning of Pride month. As an educator, I strive every day to be present for kids, in any way they show up, to help them be who they are. So I wrote this poem as an explanation of my explanation for why the rainbow is a perfect symbol for Pride, with all the colors that are in sunlight mirroring the many identities within humanity.
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