Untamed*

I rise today,

All-powerful One

Mark the date and time

For I am done

I wanted to work

So I appeased

To follow my dreams

I scraped my knees

If you really don’t know

Somewhere deep inside

How wrong it has been

Then why did you hide

But this is not about You

You’re just one of Too Many

Time to change the conversation

To solutions, not controversy

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: tame

*I am tired of the news stories re: the Harvey Weinstein “revelations” focusing on who knew what. Why no discussion of legal ramifications? It feels so insane that we hear about these people in power abusing their authority to sexually harass women (and men) and all they get is fired? Or it becomes a business story – how will the company go on? To me, the whole point is being lost. The conversation needs to be this: why does this keep happening and how can we, as a society, take responsibility for a culture that still allows for it and is somehow even supporting and creating it? Finger-pointing to individuals misses the bigger picture. I had to say something to find some sanity in this very dismal repeating story that keeps getting lost in the stories around the story.

Body Electric*

I used to search for the Truth “out there”

Let myself be told what was real and what was not

I was taught what to believe by my elders

To accept what I read in textbooks and such

I learned to analyze it all, think it through,

Used my brain and thinking to try to figure things out

But no more.

 

My body, in her intimate, ultimate wisdom,

Has taught me a new way to believe, to know

My body knows my truth, my body knows the world

I have learned a new way to answer my questions

Now, I ask my body for the answers, and I listen to her

My body never lies.

 

* Borrowed with Great Love from Walt Whitman

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: believe

Swimming in the Shallows

Most of my life, I have dreaded small talk.

I’ve often felt very judgmental towards it, seeing it as superficial and not understanding why people would want to engage in it.

I usually felt very anxious around it. I’d often feel lonely and empty-feeling during and afterwards. A bit lost.

I believe some of this has to do with my being a heavily-introverted person. Introverts, as it has become widely known as of late, often do not enjoy small talk.

But why this is true for many of us is largely misunderstood.

Here’s an excerpt from a well-written article by Lecia Bushak: Why Introverts Hate Small Talk: The Myths And Misconceptions About Our Quieter Companions.

Introverts Are Exhausted By Small Talk. People who are introverted tend to prefer “heavier” conversations pertaining to philosophy and ideas, rather than small talk. Indeed, introverts can get easily intimidated, bored, or exhausted by small talk. They would much rather be “real” with someone and talk about more weighty things.

For years, I thought I was shy. I was told I was shy as a child, and the way in which it was said/used signaled to me that being shy was not a good thing to be. I grew up hating that about me, even though I wasn’t even really sure what it actually referred to about me.

In my confusion, I put together the theory that I was “shy” meant that I was quiet + I was thoughtful and that these things = that I was defective in some way.

To this day, I bristle when people use the word shy in reference to their children as in: “Don’t be shy, say hello,” and “She/he is shy.” In the former example, the “shy” is usually said with an inherently negative-messenging tone directly to the child. In the latter, it is whispered about the child, usually in their presence, as if it is something to be ashamed of, or apologized for. Why do we do this to our children — label them with such far-reaching labels? (Don’t even get me started on that word!!!)

There is a difference between introversion and shyness. Being shy is about social anxiety. An introvert may not have social anxiety. They may just really not need or enjoy being in groups to socialize. As Bushak says in her article:

Introverts tend to turn inward when solving problems or observing the world around them. They process stimuli better internally, rather than reaching out and socializing with others. Where extroverts become energized from social interactions, introverts regain energy through alone time. After going to a party or spending time forcing themselves to network, introverts often feel drained from the stimulation and must go home to recharge.

They’re more likely, in general, to want to stay home with a good book and a cup of tea, rather than go out and experience the night through partying, loud music, and meeting new people. But just because they gain energy from being alone doesn’t mean they’re shy or socially anxious. Social anxiety and introversion are two different things. “The number-one misconception about introversion is that it’s about shyness,” Dembling told The Huffington Post. “The best distinction I’ve heard comes from a neuroscientist who studies shyness. He said, ‘Shyness is a behavior — it’s being fearful in a social situation. Whereas introversion is a motivation. It’s how much you want and need to be in those interactions.’”

I sometimes do experience shyness and social anxiety. There are parts of me that are very young and are not adept at socializing and so become very anxious around it. It makes total sense to me. When that happens, I tell them to go play and let me take charge of the situation. I take care of those parts because they need taking care of in those situations. That does not make me a shy or anxious person. That means I am a person experiencing shyness or anxiety.

Conversely, there are parts of me (both young and adult parts) who are totally adept at small talk, joke and story-telling and being gregarious, parts who love making people laugh and think.

I tend to be an introvert, so yes, I tend to prefer one-on-one conversation and that it be deep rather than chat about nothing at a party. I do feel drained after social events. I do need to refill my well with alone time.

And I like to meet new people, and if I am in the mood, I am a great listener and converser. If I am in the mood, I love parties. At one time in my life, I was even considered to be a “party animal.” That did not mean I was out-going.

Once I began to really see what was underneath the “shy” label that so affected my early self-perception, I began to explore my introversion and extroversion tendencies and find compassion and appreciation for both. None of them define me as a person. They are simply colors within me.

I no longer judge all small talk as superficial or something that is for people who are afraid to go deeper. Today, I am able to appreciate that sometimes “pleasantries” are a useful bridge or transition in social situations, and have a time and a place as well as the deeper, meatier conversations I prefer.

I do not want to have meaningless conversations that avoid intimacy or risk, certainly. But there are times when there is something in-between. Hence, the phrase “small talk.”

I used to read that to mean “nothing” or “inferior” talk.

Now I get that it can simply be a “brief amount”, an “easy amount”, an amount that does not weigh or cost much.

It’s actually quite a lovely thing and perfectly named. Small talk.

So whether you are an introvert, shy or someone like me and a mix of it all, here is a great article with some helpful ideas for navigating the tricky waters of small talk: Christina Park’s “An Introvert’s Guide To Small Talk: Eight Painless Tips.”

And for more reading, here’s another interesting piece on the subject: Cherie Burbach’s “I Hate Small Talk Why Introverts Can’t Deal With Making Small Talk”

Here’s to those of us who sometimes feel shy, sometimes feel introverted, sometimes feel like stealing the show. It is all a part of being human, and it makes conversations work. Imagine if we were all one way or the other! Either we’d all be listening in silence or we’d all be talking over each other. Thank goodness, there is a need for it all.

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: superficial

Elastic Heart

My elastic heart, once closed so tight-fisted

Like that ancient tree trunk in the park

Gnarled and twisted, hard and dense

Now stretched to capacity, unfurled beyond its former limits

Overflowing with golden-colored warmth

That’s what love did, it stretched my heart open

Like the petals of a tulip in full bloom,

Expanding daily, taking up more and more space in the world

 

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: elastic

Pump Talk

“Way to go, Genius!” he said to no one in particular as he realized that the gas he’d been pumping was spurting out onto his hand and dribbling down his pant’s leg.

He released the handle and hurriedly put it back in its cradle, and then shook his hand and leg simultaneously while shaking his head in reprimand for having caught himself daydreaming again.

“Well, that’s what you get Old Boy,” he said with a gentler tone, again to no one in particular. As was often the case in such situations, he was abrasive with himself at first, turning compassionate after a bit, as he knew that he’d always been a daydreamer and probably always would be a daydreamer.

No sense berating a skunk for its stripe, he thought, pleased that he’d found such a fitting analogy. “Let’s get a move on then,” he said with a bit of pep. And as he pulled away from the station, a tune found his lips and he started to whistle.

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: genius

Veiled Intent

She was always fashionably late, and was certainly not going to change stripes this late in the game.

They could all just await her presence. After all, wasn’t this supposed to be her big day?

She poured another sherry, and returned to the debate of veil or no veil. It felt as if her entire future happiness was dependent on this decision.

Her mother felt the veil was gaudy. The seamstress who had created it was understandably biased in its favor.The dresser had an opinion but no one asked it of her.

She gazed at her reflection, and contemplated herself from her own superior taste. The veil felt right, but some adjustment to the angle was needed.

She set her face back into its public expression and unlocked the boudoir door, ready at last to enter into her future.

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: fashionable

Independence Day

I’ve been living life backwards

Searching from the outside-in

Looking to others for the answers

Waiting to be told I can begin

But today I called a meeting

A quorum of my many selves

We voted in a new president

And the Me who won, rebels

We deny that They are right

We oppose what we’ve been told

We’ll listen for the guidance within

And our own truth, we will uphold

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: deny

Borrowed Time

I gave you my heart, outright

Had I known you’d be giving it back someday

I would have charged interest

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word prompt: interest

Ch-Ch-Changes

Four months ago, I wrote a whole blog about my experiences finding my inner athlete and how important that has been for me, for my healing. I meant every word.

I called it Athlete, Interrupted because my story really was of how the innate joy of being in my own body had been interrupted in my childhood.

I discovered running while I was on a quest that had begun in 2011 to “rediscover my inner athlete.” From July 2014 until around February of this year, running, training and races were a huge part of my life. If you’d have asked me a year ago if I would ever consider stopping running, I’d have said, “No way!”

I can’t believe it, but something has been shifting in me, and I’ve found it confusing.

It began with the last half marathon I trained for. I trained for 10 weeks, and loved it. On the morning of the race, it felt like any other. I had no idea what was coming.

It was a gorgeous but chilly January day in Central Park. I found my corral, and the race began. This particular race was two laps around the park.

Towards the end of the first lap around, right at the half way point in the race (6.5 mi,) I suddenly realized that I didn’t;t want to run any further. That I truly didn’t care if I finished and had no desire to do so.

Now, over the course of the years since 2012, in training for two marathons, and countless half’s, I’ve had the desire to stop while running. That comes up a lot. You push through, and you are usually the better for it. Sometimes, you really might need to stop, especially if you have the tendency to overtrain (as I have had.)

This was not one of those situations.

I felt so compelled that I ran off the path and let myself stop. I immediately felt overcome with emotion. Something in me was finally being given my own attention, and was so grateful.

But I felt guilty too. And sad. What was happening to me? How could my desire and commitment change so radically?

But was it truly radical? If I’m honest, looking back, I had been pushing myself to keep on running as intently as I had been for at least a year.

I had gotten so caught up in the running culture. It had given me so much joy, and such a respect for my body and its abilities. Awe for my own will and what I can accomplish if I decide to.

How could i be considering letting that go? To what? Run just to run? No more longer distances? No concern for pace?

Who was I to go from 5 days and 30 miles a week to 3-4 and 10- 18 miles? Wasn’t I going to go to hell in a hand basket? How could I change now? What if I reverted to before?

Yet, my spirit wanted other things. I was wanting to bring more creativity in my life. Not revolve my life around my training and running anymore. I felt a drive to write, to create more and revolve my life around that.

I wanted to simplify. I found myself craving other kinds of movement: Gyrotonic, Pilates. I had let those things fall away the last year.

My body was revolting! Calling me to wake up.

I fought the messages it was sending me. I didn’t trust them. What if it was laziness?

But I wanted to move, so it couldn’t be laziness. I even still wanted to run. Just not like I had been since 2012.

My body had to literally break down in order to get my attention. That is another blog when I have more distance. Suffice it to say that this was The Summer of Being Slowed Down. My body made it so that I had to listen.

I am still unraveling why I found it so hard to listen and trust my body. Why I held on so hard to running’s place in my life.

There’s always a part of me unconsciously looking for a formula. If I find something that creates happiness in my life, I want to keep doing A+ B to equal that C. As if as long as I just keep doing A+B, I’ll get C.

I think it has to do with my relationship to change. I mean, I know cerebrally we are supposed to change and grow. Still, some part of me gets scared that in letting go of something good, I will lose the good I have gained.

I guess that reveals a scarcity mentality. Some part of me fears losing what little good she has managed to get, so she thinks she can never change, or else she risks returning to the misery of before.

I am trying to work with the fears of that part of me. Help myself trust that change is good. That I am still being athletic, but in a different way.

And new – different – is good. It brings new – different – experiences. And that brings new information.

And through the new information gained in the experience, I become different. More.

I will help myself meet the change with trust and excitement instead of resistance and fear.

It means I am a living thing, that change-induced growth. Not a computer that can be programmed and set to repeat.

After all, I am always a work in progress. And that’s the way it is supposed to be.

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word prompt: athletic

Hollowed Halls

I felt the tickle of a trickle of sweat run down under my arm as I waited just beyond the corner past his locker. My mouth was dry, my heart pounding.

It was now or never.

I had to have a date for the dance coming up next weekend, and he was the only boy I could think of to ask.

He was a Kicker, not in the Popular league, so more within my reach. (Me definitely not being in the Popular League or anywhere near it.)

We got along okay, I thought. I sat behind him in history and sometimes we exchanged a few words. He at least saw me. I made him laugh once with my impromptu impression of the teacher.

I spotted his cowboy hat and forced myself to call his name, my heart suddenly full of hope. He turned and came over my way. I felt like my whole life was about to change.

My words tripped over my tongue and landed between us with a clumsy thud, but he got the gist.

He paused for what seemed a lifetime. My heart sank in the silence.

“Nope, I have to say no. But don’t feel bad. I wouldn’t say yes to a dance, not even if you was Susie Moore.”

Susie Moore was hands down the most popular girl in school. She was everything I was not: pretty, petite, outgoing, a cheerleader, funny.

I laugh a curt, self-derisive laugh and say “Oh yeah, of course!” a little too brightly, a little too pushed.

I walk away, my hope around my ankles, the taste of recognition of my non-Susie Mooreness bitter in my mouth. I’d known it already, but having it stated to your face is a whole different ball of wax. Especially from the mouth of your major crush.

Never again, I vow silently to myself. Never. Again.

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: popular

I read my writing for the first time in a public forum today. It was amazing to share my words live, and to experience the other writer’s works.

Because I was so involved with that, I thought I’d repost Old Baggage for today’s word prompt, but this came to me instead. 34 years later and I still feel the sting. Isn’t it amazing? How intense our early experiences can be?