April 6, 2022

i am
a very stubborn person
a very strongheaded person
an i-put-my-mind-to-a-task-and-i-do-it person
a person who sets a goal and sticks to it
a person who does things

when i was sixteen years old, without a flexible muscle in my body
i decided i wanted to be flexible
so i stretched every morning
and was, after just a few months
able to do all splits
and waterfall into a back-bend
and i did this with very little knowledge
(which would bite me in the ass later,
but that’s not the point of this poem)
i wanted to be something
so i set my mind
and i did it.

i have other examples
of stubbornness
of setting my mind
but that is the one i call upon first
because it is such a clearcut example
of how i can accomplish
anything
i put my mind to

so why can’t i ever set my mind to loving myself
to forgiving myself
to cutting myself a little bit of slack
to giving myself a little bit of a mental break over things that
i probably had very little control over in the first place?

is it because i don’t actually want to love/forgive/let myself off the hook?

i’d say
probably

(but then that brings up a whole new question
which is
why?

why do i think i don’t deserve love?
why do i think i’m reprehensible if i dare to cut myself the tiniest bit of slack?
why does my feeling of worthiness come directly from how worthless i can
make myself feel?

this doesn’t seem healthy or accurate or growth-inducing

so why do i still do it?)

(i don’t have any answers right now)

July 25, 2021

for so long
i was the kind of person
who woke up every morning
and stretched for fifteen minutes.

i think i needed it, at that time,
so much loss and change and variability,
and i had a goal and i achieved it;
within the year (maybe within six months)
i could:
touch my toes,
drop into full splits,
left, right, and center,
and i could arch my back
backwards
and touch the floor on the other side.

and yes, i was younger
and limberer
(though i certainly didn’t feel that way
when i started)

but after high school,
i entered college
with roommates
and depression
and a year away
and figuring out my life
and another college
and too many classes/assignments/rehearsals
to fit in 24 hours,
and the diligence
of stretching every morning
slipped away…

and then meeting my to-be spouse
and graduation
living/moving around the midwest
Pittsburgh, Cleveland, Madison,
eventually ending up in our own home
and still i didn’t have a morning routine
akin to that which helped me through high school
nothing for my body
nothing for my mind
nothing for my soul
(but i was fulfilled, body, mind, and soul, in other ways;
discovering circus,
meeting my people,
having my kip with me through it all).

and when we moved to New York,
the spouse and i created a new tradition,
a new morning routine,
to make our lives a little more centered
as we entered our busy days.

and that habit ebbed and flowed,
adjusting for our own needs,
adjusting for the start of a global pandemic,
adjusting for the stressors and fears that accompany
life
in a ‘new normal’
kind of situation,
and we’ve been at this
morning pages
for a year and a half now,
and the poetry version
i’ve kept going
for a little over
one hundred days

and this has been paramount
to my emotional, intellectual, and spiritual health,
i’ve felt more connected to my own thoughts
(or awareness that i’m not)
for the first time since i was a small child

but my body still begs for consistency
and my muscle flexibility
hasn’t been touched in weeks
and there’s no habit i have that helps…

but that’s how i started
a decade and a half ago,
a feeling of need,
of desire,
of a goal i wanted to accomplish,
and i set my mind to do it
so i did.

and i know it won’t be as quick
(and i have more knowledge now
of all bodies and their different needs)
so maybe
now
i can find a time
an activity
a physically centering habit
to help me as we adjust
for new changes,
healthier spaces,
and connect body/mind/spirit
in one.