Viable You

be you E.K.

Photo: E.K.

 

Don’t forget:

You can do

All that needs

Follow through,

You can breathe

Life anew

As you hold

To what’s true

For your

Viable you.

 

 

For The Daily Post

Fluff’s Preamble

dandalion AmitaiAsif

Photo: Amitai Asif

 

In a huff

It is easy

To dig in one’s heels

In rebuff and fumble,

When in truth

Fluff can

Just as well

Signal

New concepts

Awaiting

A draft’s timely

Arrival.

 

 

For The Daily Post

Do Not Settle

yardstick

 

Do not settle for substandard conduct.

For unacceptable ways of talking to and of another

Even if – especially if – they are among those you disagree with

Or maybe prefer to not understand.

 

Do not settle for substandard leadership.

For unbecoming ways of working with some who oppose your views

And yet are part of you

Part of your country

Part of what holds a mirror to your blind spots

And what makes you into

Who you are and can become.

 

Don’t settle for the substandard fantasy

That misleads you to believe yourself somehow better

Than another

Because of your religion, gender, party, origin, or baseball cap.

You are not.

Better.

We are all of us defined by our actions, not our acronyms.

We can be raised or felled by the choices that we make:

To go low

Or rise above

To sink into the mire

Or to raise the discourse

From the gutter

Back to civilized.

 

Do not settle for substandard

Language

For slurs and rudeness not fit for the ears of anyone

Let alone our children.

Settle not for the reactivity of hate and violence

Of disdain for the vulnerable

And disregard to others whom you declare guilty by an affiliation

Different than yours.

 

Do not settle

For substandard influence

When you know better.

 

Raise the standard.

So those who keep lowering the bar

Not think it has become the norm

To celebrate the rude or bow to the crass

When either are so

Very far

Below par.

 

 

 

For The Daily Post

Lust Will Not Last

Park Alonim by Orly fuchs galchen

Photo: Orly Fuchs Galchen

 

Some lust for power, covet shaming another, feed off anger and ire.

Some desire control, step on laws, trample all, heed no call but their gall.

Some relish what’s cruel, find odd joy in the crude, equate strength with the rude.

In their greed to succeed, they maim truth, cripple fact

And attack anyone who attempts to talk back.

But fear not:

Lust turns old

Greed grows cold

Lies don’t hold.

In the end, it’s foretold:

Truth takes root

Hearts bear fruit

Love unfolds

Life’s real gold.

 

 

For The Daily Post

Your Music

prettylittlethings.typepad.com

Photo: Pinterest

 

Find the string of life

That thrums within you

And play your music –

Bold or timid

Loud or soft,

It is unlike any other

Ever heard

Yet

As eternal

And familiar

As the beat that drums

Inside all living

Chests.

 

For The Daily Post

Do It Anyway

He has stage fright. The real deal.

Social phobia with all the trimmings.

Speaking in front of anyone renders him paralyzed with irrational but no less numbing terror.

Talking to a store clerk makes him sweat.

Let alone giving a speech in front of assembly.

The whole school. Faculty, too.

He trembles at the thought.

“You don’t have to do this.” His mother. She is distressed by his distress. Protective.

“But I do,” he says.

He’s scared.

Determined, too.

He asks me to teach him how “to speak even when my throat gets stuck.”

We work on it. On breath, on visualizing, on rhythm and on parsing and on tone and pitch and breath again. He practices. With me, at the mirror, with family, with a good friend.

He knows the words by heart. He wrote them. A speech about things that oh-so-matter and are so very needing-to-be-said.

“The words come into my dreams,” he tells me. “Is that weird?”

I shrug. I don’t think so. “What do you think?”

He smiles shyly. “I think they want me not to be afraid. The words. Like we are friends now, words and me.”

 

The day comes.

He calls me in the evening.

“I threw up twice and I trembled like crazy,” he says, but his voice is giddy. “Then I thought about the words. My words … like friends. The beads on the necklace like we practiced … and I could breathe … I was still scared but I did it anyway!”

 

learn-how-vvg

Un-Hide

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Photo Credit: O.A.

 

You do not need to hide

Your pain

Your worry.

You do not need to stash away

The dreams

The stories.

You do not need to hold your tongue

Pretend away your feelings

Ignore what you already know,

Just to be

Someone you are not

For me

For show

For others.

You do not need to wrap parts of yourself

In secrecy

Or silence.

It is okay.

Un-hide.

I understand.

Even if some do not know, and

May need more time,

To see

How you’re the light

Within the deepest darkness.

 

 

For The Daily Post

What is Kindness?

kindness

“What is kindness?” she asked.

“Is it being naïve?

Is it seeing no wrong in a person?

Is it looking away from the dark

Is it stepping around any shadows?”

“Not so,” said the Wise,

“Kindness is to know wrong exists and yet

also see goodness that lives right beside it.

Kindness is to call dark by name without being righteous,

to look into the voids and offer them light;

To acknowledge the shadow

and hold a hand to those in it,

compassion to those who forgot what light was.

Kindness is the courage to speak truth

and make good on promises.

It is the strength to keep one’s heart soft

when it might be easier to harden.

It is being gentle with all

without martyrdom

and without losing sight of one’s own imperfection.

It is knowing one’s own needs

and the soul’s True North.”

“It sounds like hard work,” she sighed, “this whole kindness business.”

“It is,” the Wise smiled, “as it is also

the work of all life, love, and heart;

of laughter and joy

of likeminded spirits

of light multiplied;

the gift of play

and children’s delight;

the work of Spirit,

the air of all life.

Be kind, and you would have fulfilled

all that is enough.”