Skip to main content

Day 2: What's your favorite poem?

It sorta feels like cheating blogging so early.  I have a feeling that my night owlishness is getting a bit extreme!

Hmm...favorite poem?  Just one?  It's by Rod McKuen.  He's known more as a song writer but my senior year of high school I somehow ended up with one of his books, Stanyon Street and Other Sorrows, and fell in love.  I painted this on the back of my denim jacket:

Do not tell me your name
why you came to town
what you do on Sunday
your favorite poet
                    movie
                    comic strip
your age and next of kin
         in case of  accident.

Say instead that I am warm
let your touch talk
let the motion in the darkness speak
then go away if you must
but not while I'm looking.

It was exactly right at that time.  It was the first time that I read a poem and my world felt complete because of it.  It fit.

It doesn't fit quite the same these days but neither does the jacket!  I still have my jacket.  It's one of those items that I will keep until I can't.  I don't keep much from my past.  Joel is quite a pack rat but I'm not.  We moved around a lot when I was a kid and so I learned to let go of stuff.  My painted denim jacket is nearly 20 years old and the paint is flaking off but it's still relevant.  On one of the arms it says "Silence Equals Death, Support AIDS Research & Awareness Programs."  The other arm features a sunset, ocean water, land and says "Save the Rainforest."  If I remember tomorrow I'll take a picture and add it to the blog.  It's not genius or gorgeous--it's just me, it's sad how much hasn't changed since then.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Sermon on Luke 24: 44-56

This morning I have the honor of preaching at my Mentor's church while she take a well earned break.  I'd be lying if I wasn't nervous. Thankfully, I live with an amazing editor so that helps.

I'm using the first story from Peter Rollin's The Ortodox Heretic and Other Impossible Tales as an illustration. It didn't seem right to type it into my sermon. The stripped down version is that a man is put on trial for being a Christian. He has all the Christian trappings: regularly attends church, prays, reads scriptures and inspirational devotions, he even writes his own! Yet, he is free to go because there is no evidence that he is living as Christ and the Disciples did, he poses no threat to the status quo. I highly recommend the book. It's filled with wonderful and challenging tales, Rollins' uses the book to state that the scriptures and all our religiosity have no meaning unless we put those words and beliefs into action.

Update:  I left the book at home!!…

Cancer and unicorns

I wish I could remember where I found this prayer, it gives me strength and courage. 

Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers,
but to be fearless in facing them.

Let me know beg for the stilling of my pain,
but for the heart to conquer it.

Let me not crave in anxious fear to be saved,
but hope for the patience to win my freedom.

Grant me that I may not be a coward,
feeling your mercy in my success alone;
but let me find the grasp of your hand in my failure.

Written by Rabindranath Tagore

It turns out I have actual cancer.  In the tiniest of ways I am concerned but overall I am very positive about kicking some cancer ass. I think it has helped going through the precancerous stuff and emotions. I now know that I can get through the surgery. I know what I face and that I am surrounded by people who love and care for me and will help me through this.

A few months ago I had a "unicorn party" for my staff because things had been rough in the office and most folks had persona…

Cancer blues

Most days I feel really positive and good.  Today is not one of those days. Today is one of those days in which I've been thinking about having my lymph nodes removed and the risk of lymphodema in my legs. Dr. Gyn/Onc seemed more worried about this side effect than the actual cancer.  I don't want to go there but sometimes those images of log tree legs, remembering the pain from the swelling in my legs when I was pregnant, and imagining the drains being stuck in my body for a week or more, well it makes my skin crawl.

I know there will be good days and bad days. I try to keep the bad days from my family and friends. I know they are stressed too.

I feel like we are one of those families in which something is always going on and people start to pull away wondering WTF is wrong with them!

I'm used to being the care taker, not the one receiving care.

I have to find a new normal and that won't happen until after the surgery.  So I need an interim normal for the time being.