She Persists

Image result for symbols for persistence

                                      Hamsa: The Hand of Fatima

   (courtesy of: http://mythologian.net/symbols-strength-extensive-list/)

 

You were whole along

Even when the weaponed words cut you

and hammered their hurt.

Tied you to the tracks

as the lumbering locomotive lurched towards you.

You defied the Damsel in Distress Delegations,

beating the drum to your own destiny.

Still today

You were pinpricked.

Blood bursting

unexpected spatter that landed on the floor and walls.

Faint whispers of long ago depositions

and ugliness attempted a resurgence.

Someone poisoned the well,

but you refused to drink.

You tended the wound

and sealed the leak.

Retained your Integrity

Reminded once again that you will not be broken by ugliness and ignorance.

 

Day 3: This day sort of wrote itself.  The details need not be regurgitated. I am grateful for the support I received and the beautiful reminder of who I am: a passionate woman who has a way with words and uses them well.

 

Advertisements

Healing Garden

There exists a corner

A space left untouched

Nearly forgotten

Long awaiting a wakening

The soil-

weed ridden

and parched

from endless summers’ sun soaked days

We’ve tilled the dirt

Adding sustenance

Giving it strength and spirit

We’ve planted and mulched

Praying for the flora to find robust roots

Watering becomes a religious rite and ritual

A daily baptism and blessing

for these new lives to become one

with Mother Earth

Day 8. For my birthday at the end of March, I decided that I wanted to plant something in our backyard. My husband had spent years before we were married tearing out neglected plants and most recently an empty shed. The yard emerged as a tabula rasa. Certainly a challenge! For his birthday in February we planted a tree in order to create shade.  My “something” is metamorphosing into a butterfly garden, created in memory of my late mother who loved them. Each time I have seen one over the years, I feel as if she is paying me a visit.

The act of planting is also an act of persistence for me.  In spite of  the current climate (no pun intended) and my continuous activism, I believe it is vital to go on joyously living into the new life I am creating here.

Incidentally, the daily word prompt for the challenge, was “HEAL”. Thank you to the folks at WordPress for the help!

 

Breathing Room

I ran this morning until it hurt. Perhaps I was inspired by my work colleague, M. whom I met on the trail somewhere after the 1 mile mark. She was heading North to Dunedin on a 30 mile run. We spoke at length about life as it is and the need for running. How we write lesson plans, letters, solve problems, and create new ideas as our feet guide us to known and often unknown destinations. Her goal inspired me to run further after a week of not running at all.  It was completely unplanned; I surely had plenty of time-more time than usual last week to get in lots of running. Yet, I found myself letting things unfold. Yoga and chakra meditation really called my name. The weather was cool-very cool and windy- and I welcomed the chance for a hoodie and windbreaker to walk in on Spring Break.

Spending time with myself and loved ones down here was the goal. My stepdaughter and I enjoyed lunch and long walks and big talks together; we grew closer than ever. Emily was down for a family obligation and managed to drive the extra 115 miles to see where I live, accompanied by lovely Lillian, her daughter. Her mid-week visit filled my soul and ironically, made me feel more grounded here. Showing her and Lillian the sights of St. Petersburg was truly a thrill.

Mountain Women on the city streets!

On Friday, I spent the morning walking the beach at Indian Shores, listening and looking. Seashore treasures abounded:

 

Peace was at hand at hand-at least for a little while.                                                                                                                                                     

Saturday dawned and we headed for a run on St. Pete Beach, where my father lives. He thought only my husband would be out and said I was a “good  surprise” so early in the morning. I decided to walk and talk with him. Simply wonderful! Later in the day, we joined him and others at a waterfront joint, enjoying the turquoise water,  slow-moving boats and surfacing dolphins. We celebrated a traditional New England St. Patrick’s Day dinner that night at our house.

Still, the specter of insecurity persists, seeping into conversations in the midst of sunshine and laughter. I continue to resist, shining my own light, becoming the change I wish to see.