Spirits with invisible walls between.
They cannot connect.
Thinly-veiled hatrid is the standard.
Craving intimacy from that which is despised.
Seething just below the surface.
Contempt spills forth like lava.
While smiling.
Sniping.
Pretending.
Grieving.
Destroyers of souls.
Grim reapers.
Black holes.
Portuguese Men of War.
Reaching out long stinging tentacles to capture others.
Consuming what they catch.
To keep satiated and afloat.
In the shallows of the ocean of life.
Holding on with one ancient, weathered, frayed, fragile rope.
Stinging tentacles fray the rope daily.
Until one day nothing remains but a weak, yellowing thread.
Lives get 'super-sized'.
Building bigger and bigger houses.
More room to be mad in.
More stuff more stuff more stuff, please.
To drown out the sounds of fear.
To fill the void.
Chinese food cliche...too soon hungry for more.
Esslin's "Theater of the Absurd" in the flesh.
Observing, Beckett and Ionesco would scribble notes furiously.
Exit the King.
A tragedy of Shakespearean proportions in the making.
Merchants of Venice.
© 2009 Patricia Fletcher.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
A Clown on the Towpath
Driving along the towpath.
Mumbling to myself in my head.
Will it take me less time if I shop Oxford Valley or Quakerbridge?
Wait. What’s that?
A clown?
A clown running down the towpath?
Not near any buildings. In the middle of nowhere.
Big red feet. Big red fro. Funny clothes. Big bow tie. The whole smash.
What the…?
Mind runs wild.
Am I going insane?
Is there a party gone awry?
Is there a kid who needs help?
Has he been drinking?
Is this a frat thing?
Clowns are pretty scary.
Remember that Mad Magazine cover in the 70's?
Remember that clown on Married with Children?
Wait. He’s running towards my neighborhood.
Should I be worried?
Hmmm.
Mumbling to myself in my head.
Will it take me less time if I shop Oxford Valley or Quakerbridge?
Wait. What’s that?
A clown?
A clown running down the towpath?
Not near any buildings. In the middle of nowhere.
Big red feet. Big red fro. Funny clothes. Big bow tie. The whole smash.
What the…?
Mind runs wild.
Am I going insane?
Is there a party gone awry?
Is there a kid who needs help?
Has he been drinking?
Is this a frat thing?
Clowns are pretty scary.
Remember that Mad Magazine cover in the 70's?
Remember that clown on Married with Children?
Wait. He’s running towards my neighborhood.
Should I be worried?
Hmmm.
© 2009 Patricia Fletcher.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
No.
You. Blue.
You want me to be blue too.
If I can be blue
like you -
you love.
You. Angry.
You want me to be angry too.
If I can be angry
like you -
you love.
You. Hateful.
You want me to be hateful too.
If I can be hateful
like you -
you love.
You. Cruel.
You need me to be cruel to
(so you can feel good about you).
If I can let you be cruel -
you love.
No.
© 2009 Patricia Fletcher.
You want me to be blue too.
If I can be blue
like you -
you love.
You. Angry.
You want me to be angry too.
If I can be angry
like you -
you love.
You. Hateful.
You want me to be hateful too.
If I can be hateful
like you -
you love.
You. Cruel.
You need me to be cruel to
(so you can feel good about you).
If I can let you be cruel -
you love.
No.
© 2009 Patricia Fletcher.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Can I Get a "Do-Over"?
I saw A Christmas Carol in a local theater last year, and it got me thinking along a familiar theme, in the same way that writing our holiday family update letter always does. Never mind your mistakes, Mr. Scrooge...where in MY life is a “do-over” needed?
My husband and I are at the tail end of a big do-over, and that makes it time again to take stock. Over the past seven years we’ve both pulled off dramatic career transitions, including that fun-never-ends “paying your dues in a new profession” phase. The uphill climb is over now, and we are finally into the stage of reaping the benefits. High five.
We were corporate for-profit science people for the first chunk of our careers, and watched in horrified disbelief as corporate leaderships’ values and organizational cultures split farther and farther away from what we were about as human beings. The money and fringes were awesome. The chronic acid reflux of being out of sync with our own values was toxic. We were being pressed to change our values to better fit into our corporate cultures so we could remain employed. People kept trying to define success for us in their terms, and make us follow their path to whatever their particular definition of happiness. We said no. We were downsized. We decided enough was enough, surveyed the vast career prairie outside of our zones of comfort, and chose new careers where we could have more control, more opportunities and a lot more fun.
Remember “The Road Not Taken” - that Robert Frost poem you had to read in college? That was in the back of my mind the whole time, and very much guided my decision process. It has become a personal mantra. Here’s the last verse:
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Our first experience with being downsized gave us a wonderful gift. It gave us a long chunk of unstructured time off. No one ever tells you that you should budget this kind of time off into your career plan. Now I believe it’s critical to have extended time like this away from the rat race once-in-a-while, especially as adults with tons of responsibilities and constantly overly-packed schedules. Your typical 1-2 week vacation is nice, but just doesn’t deliver. It has to be in terms of months…preferably in the 3-6 range. Long enough to hit the life re-set button a few times, yet not long enough to become creatively bored or stagnant.
It’s critical because those long periods of quiet time allow for genuinely honest reflection. Who am I? Is this who I want to be? Where have I been? Where am I now? How did I get here? What needs to change? How can I go about changing it?
It’s kind of like detox for the soul…a spiritual colon cleansing, if you will. Get rid of all the built up garbage that has been clouding your view. An oil change. Get a fresh start...minus any baggage that might have attached itself to your spiritual pipes along the way.
I started teaching science in the grades 6-12 arena four years ago, and I am really having fun doing it. Maybe this is where I will remain, or maybe something else that fits even better will reveal itself as I walk along this path. One thing is sure...I should have made this career change about five years before I did, because I feel like a Dilbert comic strip office drone brought back to life.
For the first half of this school year, I have been taking time off from my teaching to reflect, recharge, take care of a pile of family business and grow some creative projects. I'm ready to go back into my own classroom now, and because of my time off I feel I have so much more to offer my students.
It seems like everyone has a secret do-over wish of one kind or another. We all do the best we can in the moment, and then want to kick ourselves in the backside later.
Perhaps it’s about passive career choices made along the way that wound up shaping one into someone unrecognizable, and a need to reclaim the spirit. It could be about the loss of someone beloved or parenting choices that ended up causing more harm than good. Perhaps it was a choice to exclude someone as an easy way out, rather than do the relationship work and invite personal growth. Whatever it is, it's probably in the way.
Hey, Mr. Scrooge...thanks for helping with the oil change.
© 2009 Patricia Fletcher.
My husband and I are at the tail end of a big do-over, and that makes it time again to take stock. Over the past seven years we’ve both pulled off dramatic career transitions, including that fun-never-ends “paying your dues in a new profession” phase. The uphill climb is over now, and we are finally into the stage of reaping the benefits. High five.
We were corporate for-profit science people for the first chunk of our careers, and watched in horrified disbelief as corporate leaderships’ values and organizational cultures split farther and farther away from what we were about as human beings. The money and fringes were awesome. The chronic acid reflux of being out of sync with our own values was toxic. We were being pressed to change our values to better fit into our corporate cultures so we could remain employed. People kept trying to define success for us in their terms, and make us follow their path to whatever their particular definition of happiness. We said no. We were downsized. We decided enough was enough, surveyed the vast career prairie outside of our zones of comfort, and chose new careers where we could have more control, more opportunities and a lot more fun.
Remember “The Road Not Taken” - that Robert Frost poem you had to read in college? That was in the back of my mind the whole time, and very much guided my decision process. It has become a personal mantra. Here’s the last verse:
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Our first experience with being downsized gave us a wonderful gift. It gave us a long chunk of unstructured time off. No one ever tells you that you should budget this kind of time off into your career plan. Now I believe it’s critical to have extended time like this away from the rat race once-in-a-while, especially as adults with tons of responsibilities and constantly overly-packed schedules. Your typical 1-2 week vacation is nice, but just doesn’t deliver. It has to be in terms of months…preferably in the 3-6 range. Long enough to hit the life re-set button a few times, yet not long enough to become creatively bored or stagnant.
It’s critical because those long periods of quiet time allow for genuinely honest reflection. Who am I? Is this who I want to be? Where have I been? Where am I now? How did I get here? What needs to change? How can I go about changing it?
It’s kind of like detox for the soul…a spiritual colon cleansing, if you will. Get rid of all the built up garbage that has been clouding your view. An oil change. Get a fresh start...minus any baggage that might have attached itself to your spiritual pipes along the way.
I started teaching science in the grades 6-12 arena four years ago, and I am really having fun doing it. Maybe this is where I will remain, or maybe something else that fits even better will reveal itself as I walk along this path. One thing is sure...I should have made this career change about five years before I did, because I feel like a Dilbert comic strip office drone brought back to life.
For the first half of this school year, I have been taking time off from my teaching to reflect, recharge, take care of a pile of family business and grow some creative projects. I'm ready to go back into my own classroom now, and because of my time off I feel I have so much more to offer my students.
It seems like everyone has a secret do-over wish of one kind or another. We all do the best we can in the moment, and then want to kick ourselves in the backside later.
Perhaps it’s about passive career choices made along the way that wound up shaping one into someone unrecognizable, and a need to reclaim the spirit. It could be about the loss of someone beloved or parenting choices that ended up causing more harm than good. Perhaps it was a choice to exclude someone as an easy way out, rather than do the relationship work and invite personal growth. Whatever it is, it's probably in the way.
Hey, Mr. Scrooge...thanks for helping with the oil change.
© 2009 Patricia Fletcher.
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