Great

No one 

Has asked me lately 

What I think 

Makes a life 

Great 

 

If they did

I’d say

 

It’s a stranger 

Offering to share 

A swim lane

At a crowded pool

 

It’s appreciating

The enough-ness

Of an average house 

An average job

 

It’s having 

A few dreams

Come true

 

It’s living the life you decide

With the people you’ve chosen 

 

It’s pursuing opportunities 

That light up your soul

 

It’s looking out for another

Because we all

Need a hand up

Sometimes 

 

It’s living unafraid in freedom 

 

It’s being kind because it’s right 

To be kind

 

It’s learning from our mistakes 

And becoming better humans 

It’s living in a society 

Where the schoolyard bully 

Would never 

Be elected principal

It’s living without fear

That a disability

A skin color

Or an immigration status 

Might land you

In concentration camp 

Might get you killed

It’s the simplest 

Of things really

That make 

Life great

So the question then

That needs answer

Why take these things away

And exactly who

Is life great for

When these things

Are gone

Remaining Years

With my remaining years

I don’t desire

Travel to far-away places

 

As much as I desire

Travel within

And to know myself well

 

To leave some measure 

Of wisdom

To those 

Coming into the world

As I’m leaving it

 

To remind myself 

And others

 

That an average life

An average appearance even

Isn’t so bad

 

That there are worse things 

In life 

Than being chubby

 

Like lacking empathy

Or living void

Of compassion

For instance

 

That most of us

Get to a point in life

 

When our bodies will 

No longer

Conform 

 

When we feel 

More vulnerable

Than strong 

 

And this is 

To be expected

 

This is a right

Of passage

 

And the good news remains

 

Life is still ok

Life is still good

 

Our vessels 

Wear down

With use

 

All efforts

To get them back

In factory condition

Are futile

 

But mostly

They still drive

Even if they sometimes 

Make a tinny sound

Or need higher quality fuel

 

They still take you

Where you need to go

 

So go

 

Don’t waste 

One minute more

Apologizing

To the world 

Or yourself 

 

For what 

Is visible proof

Of a life

Being lived

Forgive Yourself Now

 

Forgive yourself now

For all you’ll never be

 

You will die someday

With some regrets

 

With at least a handful

Of unfulfilled dreams

 

With things you wanted to do

But never did

 

You will die

Before you are done

Living 

 

And that is ok

 

That is what it is

To be human

 

To try 

 

To strive

 

To be surprised 

That we are out of time

 

To understand

That our imperfectly lived lives

Still meant something 

 

Still left the world changed

 

Human

It is human

To be sad

When sad 

Things happen

 

Human to despair

Over the unthinkable

Unfolding 

 

Human to wonder

 

Do I have what it takes

To make it through 

What generations before me

Have not

 

A good question

To be sure

 

One that can only

Be answered

With time

Not Going To Answer It

I do not multi task

 

So if the phone rings

At a time when

I’m doing literally

Anything else

 

I’m not going to answer it

 

If it rings 

While I’m driving 

In my 20 year old

Bluetooth less Toyota

I’m not going to answer it

 

But also

If I did have Bluetooth

Even then

I wouldn’t answer it 

 

If my phone rings

While I’m home

Finally making a recipe

I’ve been waiting to try

I’m not going to answer it

 

If it rings

During the hour

I have happily set aside

To get lost in a read

I’m not going to answer it 

 

Should it ring

At days end 

While I’m  scrolling 

Social media 

Yes even then 

I won’t be answering it

 

If I’m talking 

In person

With any human

Be it neighbor, friend 

Mailman or cashier 

I’m not going to answer it

 

If I’m peacefully sitting

With my dog

Petting her

And telling her again

That she’s a queen

I’m not going to answer it

 

If I’m sitting on my couch

Silently going over words

In my head 

That will one day become 

A poem

I’m not going to answer it

 

There is a line

Sprawled for miles 

Of things fighting 

For my time 

 

And if I don’t protect 

What’s important to me

It disappears

 

And I can’t have that

 

So if you have a question

Maybe email it

 

That I will answer 

Usually the same day

But only

During the moments of my day

That I’m not already doing

Something I enjoy

So much more

Juneteenth

If you have information   

That you know 

Could instantly lift 

An unbearable burden 

Off the back 

Of a fellow human

 

But opt not to share it

 

Because un-complicating 

Someone else’s life 

Might complicate

Yours 

 

Then you suck

 

And if you are not interested

In exposing yourself to facts

 

In learning as an adult

What you were never taught 

As a child 

 

Than at least have the sense

Not to be the loudest one 

In the room

 

What heavy burden 

Are you carrying

Today

 

Maybe bankruptcy 

Or cancer

Or something else

Too painful

To mention

 

What if someone

Walked through the door right now

And brought the solution 

 

Told you that

A huge surprise inheritance

Had just paid your debts

 

Told you that

The cure for cancer

Had been found

 

Told you the suffering was over

 

And though 

The last many years

Had nearly broken you

 

Required you 

To make impossible choices

As you scraped together a life

With no funds

 

Required you 

To say goodbye

To those you loved dearly

As cancer took them 

From this earth

 

What if you then learned

That the inheritance left to you

Was supposed to be given

Nearly three years ago

 

That the cure for cancer

Had really been found

Long before 

Those you loved 

Died 

 

You might still

Be thankful 

For the windfall

For the cure

 

But you’d also damn sure

Be angry

 

That such life altering information 

Was intentionally withheld 

 

And when finally

You realized

That this injustice 

Was by design

 

You’d see 

As well

How little

Has changed

Sometimes Things Fall Apart

Sometimes 

Things fall 

Apart

 

Completely 

Unexpectedly

Unfathomably

 

Everything 

That matters

Destroyed

 

And all

That can

Be done

 

Is nothing really

 

Only wait

Bear witness

Give name

To the pain

That took

Everything

 

Maybe one day 

Years later

Relearn 

To breathe

 

Maybe one day

Write the story

Of what you’ve 

Lived through 

 

Maybe one day

Look the ending

Loss has written you

Dead in the eyes

 

Hold its gaze

 

Pick up a pen

Rewrite 

Help

On our town Facebook page recently, a plea for help went out to find an adorable little dog that had managed to break free from his owner and run off into the unknown. I am not sure how other towns roll when things like this happen but we are a town of dog lovers and once activated, the search is on. We screen shot the number to call if the dog is sighted; we check under our sheds and porches in hopes of finding the missing pup; we drive extra slow on streets where there have been sightings; we set out extra water bowls on our back porches at night lest the escapee becomes parched mid-adventure; we bring extra treats and leashes when we walk our own dogs; we don’t sleep well at night knowing someone’s dog is out fending for itself against the coyotes, traffic and presumed abject loneliness; and we check the original Facebook post incessantly hoping to see a post confirming that the dog has been found. In short, we care a lot. If we are fortunate enough to be the home that the missing dog trots up to when flight mode gives way to exhaustion, we welcome the furry little fugitive into our home with open arms, providing water and unlimited snacks with one hand while relaying the good news via phone to the frantic owner with the other. 

We would do anything for each other’s dogs.

 
This particular rebel dog went missing for six days. That is a long time for a dog used to predictable meal times, snuggly bedding and its own well stocked toybox to survive in the literal wild. This renegade pup was seen multiple times all over town. He was small but freakishly fast. Several follow up posts on Facebook said things like: “Saw the dog and it ran right by me into the woods” or “Saw the dog and could not catch it”. The poor little thing was terrified and its strongest reaction was to run as fast as it could away.

 

And I got to thinking. 

 

Here we have a desperately lost dog who - though he might have been having fun at first - days in was surely feeling the stress of missing his family and not having food or a safe place to sleep. At the same time, we also have a whole town of humans who want nothing more than to find this dog, provide it with comfort and safety and reunite it with its family. Every day and night, this dog ran past hundreds of homes not realizing that if he had walked up to any porch and cried out, help would have been immediate. His pain and confusion would have been over. His needs would have been met. No one would have considered his need for help to be an inconvenience. In fact, it would have been considered an honor to help him. 

 

I think something similar holds true for lost people.

When we are at our lowest. When we are running scared. When we have lost the way back home. When we are running as fast as we can away because we can’t tell who might help us from who might hurt us. When we are exhausted and terrified and every day running fast into the dark woods.

 

We sometimes forget that we are surrounded by help.

 

We forget that if we show up exhausted on someone’s hypothetical front porch - in whatever state of distress we are in - we will likely be met with kindness, a warm blanket, nourishment, a listening ear, and the assurance that all days won’t be as hard as the days we’ve just survived.  Our request for help wouldn’t be considered an inconvenience. The people around us would be honored to help. 

There is a lot of pain in the world and some seasons of pain nearly break us. But we are surrounded by people who would be honored to accompany us through hard times and happy to  carry some of the load. 

 

They just need to know we need help.

 

Thankfully, this runaway dog story had a happy ending and the pup is now back with his family likely living his best life once again. He wasn’t lost forever. We are not lost forever either. Sometimes we just need a little help getting back home. 

 

 

  

 

Extremes

While we sit and point fingers at each other

Over whose fault 

Mass shootings are

 

Can we start by addressing the extremes

 

Can we make space to rethink different beliefs 

and go from 

If you believe differently than me you are wrong to

If you believe differently than me then just maybe

You’ve had a different experience

And I’m curious to hear what that is

 

Can mental health advocates, gun advocates, and anti-hate advocates find common ground

 

Wherever our views fall

On these complicated issues

Can we agree that

 

Most people with mental health issues are not murderers*

 

Most gun owners are not murderers** 

 

And whether it’s born into people

Or groomed and grown

Hatred is not welcome here 

Holy hate included

 

Can we acknowledge

That danger grows unchecked and fastest

At mental health, gun ownership, and hatred’s 

Extreme edges 

 

That the waters get murky 

When we talk about

 

The plight of un-hospitalized people with psychosis who need help but can’t get admitted

 

Who can own Assault Rifles, and if it’s everyone, how young is too young

 

The otherwise mentally stable people living among us who are steeped in hatred

 

Can we start on the fringes 

 

Expand mental health treatment 

For those begging for care

 

Pause gun ownership 

For those who the majority 

On both sides agree 

Shouldn’t own one

 

Pilot reasonable changes 

On both edges of fringe 

And see if there is any improvement

 

And however many guns we own

Whatever our mental status 

Can we decide that 

Hatred doesn’t serve us

 

Can we disagree with each other

Rather than demolish each other

 

This problem

We can’t seem 

To agree on

 

Keeps changing

All of our lives

For the worse

 

So please can we start

Please can we do something

 

Because if we don’t start somewhere

 

This thing

That none of us wants

Won’t end

 

But sadly

Many more lives

Will

 

 

*There are currently 50 million Americans taking

   medications for mental health issues (and 

   100K first cases of psychosis each year)

**Americans own an estimated 20 million Assault

    Rifles which are part of the 393 million guns 

    overall owned by Americans

 

 

To The Person Who Might Active Shoot Me Someday

How

Are you

Today

 

What thoughts

Fill you mind

In these days, months, years maybe

Before the day 

You will kill me

 

Were you born enraged

Already angry

At anything

Everything

 

Or have the beginnings of hatred

Just begun

To creep up

In you

 

Have you noticed 

Within you yet

Signs of confusion or paranoia

Or is that still

On the horizon 

 

Could anything 

Have helped

Dissipate the hate

In your soul

 

Was there a treatment

Not sought

That could have brought

Relief to your mind

 

Have you thought yet

About buying a gun

 

Or are you still researching 

The best way to get one

 

Or do you already own one 

Or maybe several

 

Were they hard to get

 

Were you taught to shoot young

Or did you learn from Google

Or video games

 

Do you already have a plan

 

Have you cased the location 

Where my life will end

 

Have you played the scene through

In your mind

 

What do you feel when you do

 

Do you wonder how I am today

What I think about

 

Do you wonder 

If I’m angry

 

If I’m wild minded 

 

If I own a gun

 

If I too want more from life 

Than it’s given me

I do, by the way

 

Are you planning this

Because you hate 

Something I represent

 

Or because you believe

Death is a better option 

Than life

For all 

 

Do you see yet

The irony

 

That strangers

Whose paths cross for one day

 

Will forever

Be connected in history

 

Will forever share 

The same death date

 

I’m sorry about the hate in your heart 

 

I’m sorry about the brokenness in your mind

 

And whether your actions

Are rooted in hatred or brokenness

 

I’m sorry

You had access

To a gun

 

This is 

A battle

I cannot win

 

I can’t stop

A hatred that deep

An illness that acute 

A system that enmeshed

 

So I will spend 

My days left here

Soaking up happiness

Where ever I can 

 

Yet forever wondering

Where are you today

And is there anything that can be done

To help you

To heal you 

To alter the path you’re on

 

So that it never

Crosses mine