Saturday, August 31, 2013

A Happy Post

Writing provides an outlet for when I'm feeling down or conflicted or unsure how to express myself in any other way.  Consequently this blog often takes on a tone that is not representative of my life in general.

For the written record:

Wonder and joy fill my daily life.
Even when tired, even when disheartened, even when sad,
Small children bathe me in brightness and love beyond fault,
Their father soothing me with sweet words of support and humor.

I won't pretend to have a perfect life.
I do have dreams longing to be fulfilled.
But I have a home and a family.

It's occurred to me recently that the melancholy I had been experiencing was related to a pessimistic view of the world.  Related to a belief that things won't change, related to guilt over my material comforts - experienced as the direct and indirect oppression of someone else (an unknown factory worker in China, an underpaid sales clerk in Halifax, etc.).  Privilege itself maybe isn't the problem, but complacency.

Sunday, August 25, 2013

When the powerful feel weak

I find myself angry these days.
All the while feeling like I don't deserve to be angry.
Often feeling especially guilty for being angry, given my especially good life.

I find myself confused and wanting.
Unsure how to combat this consistent conundrum.
Searching self over and over for seeds of discontent.

Why do I feel so powerless and weak?
Why do I feel so powerless and weak, despite not actually being powerless or weak (most of the time)?

Monday, August 19, 2013


At once I cherish early morning grunts,
and scrunched up faces that follow slow motion stretches...
all the while wondering if I could head off to work,
(as opposed to a morning nap),
once middle of the night feedings conclude
in a beautiful swaddled boy.

I find myself delighting in sweetness,
yet longing for the complexity of working life.
Admonished by the silent voices of women present and past
who caution against longing for what you don't have,
especially in the shadows of great comfort.
I confront them with timidity,
suggest in inaudible tones that my life is not as easy as it appears.
They seem to listen, though only halfheartedly,
perhaps lamenting that despite their efforts,
I'll still have to learn most lessons on my own
(even, maybe especially the hard ones).

How does one build a balanced life?
How does one find settlement
where agitation lives?