Oh, man does it hurt when you slam into life’s rock bottom. You feel like you’re trying to climb out of a pit, but there’s nothing to grab onto. People want to help, but they don’t know how…and you don’t even know what you need. You’re stuck. You put your head in your hands, and the tears just roll on out. The worst part is knowing that there were probably caution signs, but you didn’t notice because you were too busy doing what you thought was the right thing.
Turns out you missed your turn and even your GPS doesn’t know where the heck you are. You keep going, though. Even when there’s nowhere to go because you’re in this awful pit, you keep moving because that’s the only way you’ll find a way out–even if there isn’t one. You tell yourself that it will be okay, and give yourself a superficial hug. You don’t believe yourself, of course, but you tell yourself anyway. While you were pacing and thinking and worrying, you didn’t realize how far you had gone. You didn’t notice what a difference all your efforts had made. When it finally sinks in that you’re no longer at rock bottom, it’s almost like it never happened.
You vow you’ll never forget though, because forgetting is dangerous. Forgetting means we didn’t internalize the lesson, that we didn’t understand how we hit rock bottom. Forgetting means we’ll get stuck again…and the second time will be so much harder to pull ourselves up. But we will. It’s what we do. We pull ourselves up and start anew daily, every sunrise, every breath, every heartbeat. We start anew. Always.
The sun comes up each morning. This, by itself is nothing significant. When you’re stuck in a rut it can even be irritating. Every time the sun rises there’s such a display of color. The sky yearns for us to understand that this new sunrise is ours. The time is ours to do with as we please. We can live in the monotony of everyday existence, or we can take the time to truly communicate with the world and make discoveries.
Daily we are given new dreams to pursue, new ideas, new joys. The time we have now is the only time we are promised. We are not promised tomorrow. We are promised today.
The explosion of water from a tap
The colors of the rainbow are mapped
The voice of the sky is scratched
The life as I die is crap.
The girl scout cookies are stale.
The coffee a permanent ring that has rung
As I watch the fire fail
I am the last note he has sung.
You are the tree
I am the axe
The one that is free
Is not the one in the cask
The paper that is folded
The life that is moulded
The patience corroded
The Prince demoted
The alarm is bleeping
Fucking the world with it
The tea is steeping
The news is spewing shit
You are the lines
I color outside
The final notice signs
The lowest tide
GOOD FUCKING MORNING AMERICA
Let us dare to believe that we are full of greatness
that poetry is alive within our souls
that beauty inures our passions
that a star can snatch our breath from our lips
that the darkness is visible
and all possibilities are possible.
Let us dare to pulse with our own inadequacy
lifted up by our failures on wings that cannot falter
for already low we have sunk sullenly.
Let us dare to be inhumanely human.
Let us free our hair from rubber shackles
free our voices from uneven whispers!
Let us holler, dance, stumble, tangle!
Let us live a life that is full of moments,
moments of quiet purity, as dew collects on uncut grass
moments of ecstasy as we plunge into the raging river
moments of organic, rough-cut, effervescent vulnerability.
Let us dare.