The Journey by Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice --

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

"Mend my life!"

each voice cried.

But you didn't stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do --

determined to save

the only life you could save. 

While, admittedly, poetry is my least favorite of all forms of writing, I really loved this poem. I suppose it's because at times, everyone can relate to it. Lately, I've found that I've been stuck in a rut of sorts and there is no better way to explain it than with this poem. There are times that I put everyone else before me -- literally, everyone, even people that I don't like very much, which I find strange, but it happens.

 It's times like these when I run myself ragged trying to do everything I can for everyone else. People are pulling on me from all directions wearing me thinner and thinner. No matter how much I'd like to help all of them, things eventually start slipping through the cracks and I get worn so thin that I'm about to snap.

This goes on, as it always does, for a few weeks until I realize that I just can't do it anymore. No matter how much I try to help anyone, I can't fix their problems for them and I can't make everything magically better. It takes a while, but little by little I try to back myself out of everyone else's messes that I've gotten into. (I know it sounds easy, but in reality it's like trying to claw your way out of a lion's mouth.) It's tedious and hard but I do it because I need to for myself, because I am the only one I can actually help and I am the only one that will do anything for me.

"It is difficult to get the news from poetry, yet men die miserably every day for lack of what is found there." - William Carlos Williams

I'm not entirely sure what this quote means. I think, however, that this means that men die miserably for not having enjoyed some of the simpler things in life. In poetry, there is often love, simplicity, music, inspiration, creativity and so many other things. By  not having these things, men never become whole, they are never complete in who they are. When someone dies, not having known love or inspiration or the appreciation for some of the smallest things in life, they die having not known some of the best things in life. These are the things that people strive for, that people appreciate most in life, and the things that make people happiest. Without them, people are unhappy and thus die miserably.

In the Future

It is the year 2049 and I am 56 years old. It has been a long fifty-six years and I have been through many things. All in all, I don't know how much I've actually amounted to. I've never been a CEO, I never became president of the United States like I once wanted to at age five, I never became a rock star like I wanted to at age ten, but I've done a lot. I'm a mother, which some say is the most rewarding thing in life, but eventually that ends. My kids are grown up and they don't need dear old mom around anymore. It seems sad but I am okay with it. After twenty some-odd years, it's time that they were on their own and I'm confident that I've raised them well enough for them to be okay on their own.

Life is it's own reward. The sense of accomplishment when you've persevered through a challenge, the amazing feeling that you get when you watch a sunset on a Hawaiian beach, the tingles you get in your stomach when you've laughed too hard with old friends, the sense of pride you are filled with upon your daughter's first steps, the butterflies you get on your child's first day of college, the day you leave them behind. It's these things that I consider best in my life: the challenges and the rewards.

I have laughed so hard with my friends that my stomach hurt for hours. I have woken up before to dawn just to watch the sun rise. I have sat lazily in a field, doing absolutely nothing but watching the clouds pass by. I have heard my children's first laughs, first words and seen their first steps. I have had the jitters on the night before my wedding. I have done all of these things, and so I consider my life lived to the fullest, though of course it's not nearly over yet. Some of these I may never experience again, but I know that there are new experiences waiting just around the corner.

Show, don't tell.

There's nothing more soothing than clutching my arms around soft tan fur when the lights go out and everything around me creaks and moans, as if there are spirits haunting the hallowed halls. I can hug it, and with its two arms and two legs, its almost as if it hugs me back. It is a security blanket and a best friend, something a girl should never live without. When my eyes adjust to the light I know that no matter what happens I can always look down and find a pair of chocolate brown eyes staring up at me. Sometimes, even though I know that they're just half -spheres of glass, I swear I can see sympathetic emotion in the eyes. With a smile plastered on its face, it never waivers in its positive attitude. Yes, no matter how loud the floorboards creak or how loud the plumbing buckles, it will always stay calm and still, the surest form of security and comfort.

Short Story Blog

In class we read a short story about a blind man who "taught" an able-bodied man how to see. I really liked this story. I thought the message was very powerful and the way it was written was perfect. I'm usually not a fan of short stories, because I think they're too short to be able to hold a good enough message. However, this story was worthy of spending the day on to read.

We also read the story about the black woman who was returning to her African roots while the rest of her family stayed in their normal lifestyle. I didn't really like this story as much because the actions of  "Wangero" really made me angry. I understand that she was going back to her roots but she was being mean to her family because of it and it wasn't respectful or a good attitude either. This story definitely didn't have a good enough message for me to enjoy it, at least one that was able to shine through Wangero's annoying actions.

Inauguration

I did not get to watch the inauguration of Barack Obama today because I was in the bathroom with a four year old who dragged me out of the gym twice today for no other real reason than that she didn't want to watch the inauguration anymore.

The little parts of it that I did see were relatively unimportant to the event as a whole. However, I think today was a very important day in the history of our country. We broke racial barriers and made great bounds and leaps for people of all races, not just African-Americans. It will be a day that the country will remember for all time.

A Bad Secret...

A bad secret, when locked away deep inside one's soul, can eat away at you until you crack. 

When I was younger, my best friend confided in me a "deep dark secret," at least as deep and dark as a secret can get when you're a kid, and swore me to secrecy. While, admittedly, in hindsight, the secret wasn't so deep and dark or so horrible to keep, it ate away at me. However, I was a noble friend so I wasn't about to "let the cat out of the bag" and give away her secret, so I didn't tell anyone.

I kept her secret for a long time, even until we weren't best friends anymore, and I still keep it today. In truth, the guilt doesn't eat at me anymore, considering it is a secret that is stale with age and no longer relevant, plus the fact that now, at sixteen, the secret doesn't seem so horrible anymore. For a while, especially the first couple of weeks and months after she told me, I felt racked with guilt about not "telling on her." In fact, whenever my mother asked me what was going on in my life, I feared it was because she knew about the secret that I was keeping and, consequently, I started avoiding these mother-daughter chats. I became paranoid about it to a certain extent. While it may have been an overreaction at the time, guilt can do that to a person without a doubt.

New Year's Resolution

The year 2009 means a fresh start, which means new resolutions to follow through on. This year, I've decided to actually make a resolution, unlike past years where I've just passed it up, knowing that the odds of my following through on it are slim to none. For the year of 2009 I am determined to finish the things I've started.

While this is a general resolution, this resolution mainly applies to my writing. For over a month now I have started numerous stories, probably upwards of ten, but have not gotten past page ten on hardly any of them. It's frustrating to have all of these ideas bouncing around in my head without being able to put them down on paper somewhere. For this reason, I want to finish what I start before moving onto another story, because I know that if I leave one task, I'll never go back to it. This is why I want to follow through on this resolution.

Saying I'm going to do something and actually doing it are two completely different things; this I know. Therefore, this year, I have a very simple plan of action for accomplishing my goal. I will simply just not let myself move onto something new. In essence, I will force myself to follow through, rather than just accepting that giving up once in a while is okay. For me, it will just not be okay. If I start to cook something, I will not leave the kitchen until I'm finished; I won't just put it in the fridge and tell myself I'll finish it tomorrow. If I start to write something, I will not start writing another story until I have at least stuck it out for a while and decided that I do not like it and that is why I'm quitting, rather than just because I want to move onto something else. If I start a project, I will continue working on it in regular intervals, rather than just give up for a few weeks and come back to it at the last minute.

New year's resolutions can be considered silly and a bad idea, and I have thought this in the past. However, I know that I will follow through on this one, one way or another, no matter how hard it is, thus making it a good idea to have promised it to myself in the first place. So, here is to 2009 with new beginnings and a clean slate. Here's to promises that will not go left undone.