Ambiguous Autumn

Green to red, then yellow, pink and brown.

Heat to cool, then warm to cold.

Tank tops to sweatshirts to warm winter coats.

Autumn brings changes for my mind and body

To which I must adjust.

The Beginning of Recovery

Recovery is a place I have visited before.
But this time,  the hospital was my first stop.
In the Mental Health Unit on the second floor,
Riverside Medical Center, Kankakee.
No cell phone, no pop, no clothes with cords.
Keeping me and the other patients safe.
Jumping right into group therapy,
I talked (and cried) a lot.
I thought the faster I participated,
The faster I could get back to work.
My neurologist, on consult, told me
To stop shooting up Rebif
As the known side effects
Of suicide ideation
May have contributed to my dis-ease.
Wanting clarification of my brain's status,
Dr. S ordered an MRI of the brain.
I announced  as I was wheeled out the door,
"I'm going to get my head examined!"
It was decided I should have images of
Cervical, Thoracic and Lumbar spine as well,
And after an hour, I was halfway done.
I would complete the testing the next day.
I swallowed the increased dose of my antidepressant
Before 10:00 when we were sent to our rooms.
I would have read my book until I fell asleep,
But my roommate wanted to fall asleep earlier.
Day one done.
Light's out.

Choices

“Beauty at the finish,” I said.

At the time I was in a good place.

I was able to accept my situation

As temporary, then,

But today is different.

I know why I hurt,

But I don’t know how long.

Yet, I never know how long the pain will last.

 The thought is no different than any other day.

Today, I am choosing to wallow in my pity.

 I can, however, choose to think differently.

“Adaptability curve,” she said.

We have to adjust to

 Anything life throws at us.

We have to work at it.

 We must reconcile our feelings with our situations.

If we don’t try to fight,

We have chosen to be miserable.

I have to choose every day.

I choose to claim my power and fight.

“Beauty at the finish,” I say.

A Family Re-Union

The two have never become one,
And were never meant to be.
One needs their own life, in spite of the others.
As well as one or two, so do three.

Their lives are llike climbing roses,
Each separate vines yet intertwined.
When one branches out on a different path,
The others must adjust their climb.

And so is it not the way of this world?
Our lives intersecting like lines on a map.
Yet we aren't given an established direction.
Moving in an unpredictable race of infinite laps.

I am not one, but many.
I evolve from events I've endured.
The past, my foundation, keeps me grounded.
The future, my fruition, not ignored.

And you must be who you are.
One to others, someone else to me.
All relationships constantly developing.
Dependent connections providing stability.

So, yes, the two have surely become one,
Weaving in more threads throughout time,
Creating a chord of combined strands
Tangled and strightened in an unbroken line.

New Blog Title

I have changed my blog title to one that I think this blog is about.  It comes from all my passions: crocheting, writing poems and acting, and my musical interests.  I tell my husband those are my avocations, meaning I don't get paid for them. I think that if I did get paid for them, I might not enjoy them as much, and it would become a chore.  Crocheting and writing are very therapeutic and relaxing for me.

Priorities

I thought I would play or dance and sing.
I thought I would do much more joyful things.
When my kids were little and I was young.
When life was simple and days were fun.

I thought my parents were a dreadful bore
When they took Sunday naps and taught me chores.
But now I'm the parent and I regrettably understand
How easily life gets hectic with balancing priorities the main plan.

The Dawn of a Year

Let me look forward toward 2011.

With this day starts the new year. 

Relishing all that is to come,

And leave behind regrets and fear.

Although it seems just another day,

Somehow it is divine.

A day of new beginnings,

A day for changing time.

The whole year is ahead of me,

The past should stay the past,

Creating each day is an exciting purpose,

Savoring each memory to last and last.

My Face of MS

One side is fine

The other is wonky.

But you can't see that,

Unless you really

LOOK at ME!

(I added the glasses after my daughter reminded me)   A person with Multiple Sclerosis struggles with the fact that they look "fine," like there is nothing wrong.  But, if you really look at the person, you can often tell they are hurting in their eyes.

Art

art ¹ (ärt)

noun

1. Human effort to imitate, supplement, alter, or counteract the work of nature.
2. a. The conscious production or arrangement of sounds, colors, forms, movements, or other elements in a manner that affects the sense of beauty, specifically the production of the beautiful in a graphic or plastic medium.
   b. The study of these activities.
   c. The product of these activities; human works of beauty considered as a group...

The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, 4th edition Copyright © 2010 by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company. Published by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company. All rights reserved.





So
What is Art?
It is
Altering,
Illuminating,
Creating,
Perceiving,
Imitating
Nature
and/or
Beauty.
Through Human Expression.

Art is
the combination,
conduction,
arrangement and
determination of
elements
enriched and
experienced by
 one
--or many,
in unison of thought.

Art is that which we
perceive
and produce
 it to be.
Art is within
(and without)
and surrounding
Me.

Peace Triumphant

Rededicated today.
The World War One memorial
For all the soldiers
In Oak Park, Illinois,
In the United States of America,
Who sacrificed the life they had known
For our country
In the "War to End All Wars"
(which it didn't).

Not all 2,460 odd soldiers died
In the war,
But they all gave up all they knew.
They left as boys,
And returned as changed men.
Men no longer known
By their families or friends.
Men who needed to relearn
Who they were themselves.

It is fitting we rededicate
This memorial today,
When we continue sending soldiers
To new wars
   (which we haven't won).
We need to  renew our plan
For a changed society.
We need to redefine our obstacles
To Peace.

                                                       

                                                        

On My Way to School

Already late for work,

Distracted by the view,

I  stopped to take a picture,

Hoping my presence didn't rue.

Keeping a careful distance,

Wondering if he'd stay,

I silently lowered my window

and found he had something to say.

He acknowledged my appearance,

letting me know I was seen.

He proudly stood his ground

As if it was routine.

Arriving at my destination,

I felt compelled to share,

Marveling at the rural drive,

And the simple beauty I found there.