Quiet like the dawn crashing upon the rocky shore of darkness.
Full of noise, full of life. A roar of silence.
Too loud to speak.
In all things I am.
I exist. Sentient.
Feeling, knowing, being. Thunderous. Mute.
Heaving towards stillness, the permanent precipice, the denouement.
Beauty in knowing acceptance. Birthing terminus.
The rocky shore of darkness as the light creeps quietly away.
Waiting to be reborn.
Me, spewing my bad poetry on an unsuspecting readership. 😉 It had to be done. Sorry all. Just one of those days/nights.
Okay, it’s obvious I’m reaching pretty far this time. But it’s April 30th, the last day of the A to Z challenge, and I had to find a way to pull together a title with both a Y and a Z. I thought about Yonder Zenith – but really, that’s just as far a reach. 😉
In any movement of importance, there are always zealots, and they never bring a level head or a spirit of cooperation with them. So while our ideals may speak to equality and acceptance, we do need to keep an eye out and guard our hearts and minds against those who take these notions and force them upon people. Because, in doing so, we’ve turned against equality and acceptance.
Do I advocate accepting a society that treats you as “less than”? Definitely not. But we do need to accept those who would try to force you into their mold of what a man or woman should be. We don’t need to accept their condemnation or bow to their will, but in accepting them for what they are, we can move past them knowing that we don’t need them or their acceptance. It can be a confusing idea. But but ultimately, when we accept others for what they are, even if we don’t necessarily agree with them, we free ourselves of the constraints they’d harness us with.
So, my last message for you during this month of discovery on the topic of sexual and gender identity? It goes back to the letter A, with the word acceptance. Just as we can free ourselves of the restraints others would place on us by simply accepting them as they are (and thus not giving them power they don’t deserve), we can claim our own power by accepting ourselves as we are.
Accept yourself, and find the freedom and love you so rightly deserve!
Whenever WordPress emails me saying someone read a post of mine “and enjoyed it enough to click the ‘Like’ button” all I can think is THEY LIKE ME! THEY REALLY LIKE ME! Because regardless of the fact that Sally Field actually said “…you like me, right now, you like me!” That’s not how folks remember it. And it’s not what you actually did, what you actually said, that people remember. It’s the pop culture, snapshot, of it all that gets remembered.
Hmmm… Now I have a choice. Do I blog about how silly it is that I get all excited knowing someone cared enough to click like, comment, or rate my post? How us bloggers are so very fickle and need our egos stroked constantly? Or do I rant and rail against this pop culture version of ourselves that is likely to be remembered vs. the truth of ourselves? Ooooo… there’s a third choice here. I can turn to YOU, the folks who satisfy that need for attention, and ask you to weigh in. Of course, if I put it out there, if I ask the question, and no-one writes back? That would be crushing. 😉 Well… maybe not crushing, but it certainly wouldn’t feel good.
So, perhaps all I’ll leave you with is this, which is something I can admit to identifying with:
“I haven’t had an orthodox career, and I’ve wanted more than anything to have your respect. The first time I didn’t feel it, but this time I feel it, and I can’t deny the fact that you like me, right now, you like me!”
– Sally Field’s famous, often misquoted, acceptance speech.
Today, while mostly awesome, was just too full. And I honestly wish I could have taken today away from work of any kind. But we are now down to crunch time with Camp fYrefly and I had to work on sending out acceptance packages. There are still a lot more to go out – but I got a good start on them… and will keep working on them tomorrow.
Why did I want today off? Well, the wee girlie only turns four once. And today was the day.
When she woke up (extra early, after a restless night, of course) I checked her over thoroughly. Inspected each and every inch, looking to see if there were possibly any three year old parts left. She giggled like mad as I peered at her armpits, checked between each toe, pinched her cheeks, wiggled her nose, and peeked into her belly button. But no. It appears that every single part is now a four year old part. There are no three year old parts left.
Before afternoon had a chance to commence, we hit the mall. Now… this particular mall is one we usually avoid. It’s just too crowded, too teen frenzy, and just too full of memories for me (not bad memories, just lots of them, around every corner). But on special occasions, we venture through the underground parking and emerge into it’s well lit crazitude (as I’ve mentioned before, making up words has a long, grand, history behind it… all the brightest, most awesome writers do it). Today was one of those special occasions.
While the wee girlie was turning four, her hot pink stuffed flamingo, most appropriately named Mingo, was turning one. So it was off to Build-a-Bear we went. Mingo needed a new birthday outfit, and the wee girlie had $21 worth of coupons to spend.
After our mall trip, it was off to my parent’s place. Where I sat at the kitchen table, Macbook Pro, iPad, and external hard drive all connected with various wires, and all connected to me – via the keyboard and trackpad. Thus the acceptance packages began to roll out.
Once Mom needed the table, I moved into the sewing room to begin working on the girlie’s costume pieces for her party on Saturday. This year she requested a Jungle party. A surprisingly easy thing to deliver.
Normally I spend a week (or even two) frantically preparing for the girlie’s birthdays. I don’t do this because I have to, but because I love doing it. I harvest berries, bake, cook, sew, craft… Work like mad. And then sit back and take in the joy of Strawberry Day (as her birthday has become known as). This year, I knew that was not happening. And I’ll admit, this particular Strawberry Day kinda feels like cheating.
We are going to The Fun Factory. That’s right. We’re heading somewhere, where I don’t have to do a darn thing but sit back and enjoy the air conditioning as the kids run around and play. Then, for 45 minutes, we’ll head into their jungle themed room (one of four party rooms) for cake and presents before heading back out to the general play area.
I am not making a cake. We’ve ordered a Monkey Jungle cake from Co-op. I am not baking, cooking, or crafting. I did minimal sewing today (about 1.5 hours worth) to create a Monkey costume for the girlie, as it’s a costume party. And that’s it. Come Saturday we’ll pick up the cake, and head on over to party with anyone who shows up. LMAO Yep. Feels like cheating. No cleaning, no mess. Show up, party, leave. LOL
In honor of this very different type of party, we are calling it Jungleberry Day. Because, well… it’s not really a Strawberry day if I’m not preparing a whack load of strawberries and strawberry dishes for my little Strawberry, now is it? 😉
So, after a bit of sewing, it was time for supper (and I so appreciate Mom providing the meal for us, I felt bad not pitching in at all, but I so desperately needed that time – so THANKS MOM!). Mom made up salad and pizza. Then, it was onto cake and presents.
The wee girlie was so wound up and exhausted by the time we were done, that she took a few laps around the yard with her new rockets/arrows (they are these air propelled nerf-like rocket/arrow things that you can shoot at each other) and it was time to come home and hit the hay. BTW, thanks for those Mom and Dad. When I first saw them I was thinking “Are you nuts?!?!?” but you can get out a lot of frustrations shooting (safely) at your kid. LMAO
Now we are home and in bed. The girlie, fast asleep. She’s four. Just like that.