Creative Mischief and Musings
Elsa sings about it. Master Yoda instructs Luke to practice it. Don Miguel Ruiz tells us there are five levels of it. But there’s a flip side to all that letting go. There are times that no matter what challenges we face, no matter what tragedy falls on our plate, we must defy the laws of gravity and hang on to what matters most.
When we let go of self-directed purpose, we fall from grace.
When we let go of self-respect, we fall apart at the seams.
When we let go of self-restraint, we fall off the wagon.
When we let go of self-esteem, we fall short of expectation.
When we let go of self-worth, we fall behind.
When we let go of self-actualization, we fall back in the ranks.
When we let go of self-will, we fall by the wayside.
When we let go of self-assuredness, we fall down on the job.
When we let go of self-control, we fall asleep at the wheel.
When we let go of self-discipline, we often fall over backwards.
When we let go of self-defense, we fall into a trap.
When we let go of self-control, we fall on deaf ears.
When we let go of self-love, we fall head first into fear.
When we let go of self-awareness, we fall flat on our face.
but when we let go of self-doubt, everything falls into place.
So how about you?
What do you hold onto as part of your beautiful and unique self?
In 2011 writing a memoir was the furthest thing from my mind. But nearly every evening while I laid in bed, kids at my side and husband sleeping down the hall, words, phrases, full poems just poured out of me. It felt as if an invisible force danced my fingers across the keyboard like miniature puppets. I didn’t know what to do with my writings at the time. I just gave it the space to be heard, then stored each one away.
Most of these poems are dark, sad, even overwhelming. They are also an accurate reflection of my state of mind as I faced divorce, dissolving assets and a disintegrating passion. Much time has passed and many events have transformed my life since these grey days and today I hold this work like a mother would her crying baby – gently, quietly, unconditionally.
By far, the hardest question I was ever asked is “What do you want?” I sat in a room with over twenty highly creative artists, educators, coaches and musicians as we asked each other this one question over and over for twenty minutes. What I wanted most was for everyone to stop asking me. I wanted the pain to go away. I wanted the wound the question opened up to be healed.Later that evening this poem was born…
Okay, now what do you want?