Untitled.

I don’t know what to call myself.

I don’t know what I am today.

I don’t know who I’ll be tomorrow,

Or what color shirt I’ll wear.

I don’t know what my job will be in 10 days,

2 weeks or 3 years.

I don’t know that I could call December in Los Angeles winter.

Or October in Austin fall.

I don’t know how to be easy with everyone in the room,

Or how to relax on car rides.

I don’t know how many pets I’ll own,

children I’ll adopt,

countries I’ll visit,

books I’ll read, or tears I’ll shed.

I’m okay not knowing.

135459901261538546_fyqDouBQ_c I do know how to love.

How to create and imagine.

How to teach and give.

How to speak out and stand up.

I may not bite my tongue,

but I always know how to say I’m sorry.

I will not be enslaved or figured out.

I’m interested in humanity,

In stories and legends.

I believe in ghosts, dark energy and magic,

In healing and possession.

I will always prefer books but

I long to tell the stories of the people.

I’m not interested in money.

In fear or self doubt.

I have no room in my heart for cruelty, killing

Or intolerance.

I have no need to be ‘right’

But I am interested in truth.

I’m learning to be dangerous,

To play, to allow, to laugh

And to forgive.

I’m learning to jump up and down,

To rush and shout.

I’m exercising my demons,

Slowly.

I’m a woman.

A maiden and priestess.

I’m a child of the winter,

A child of water and earth.

I’m a wild horse in the mountains

and an owl on an evergreen.

I’m a wife, a partner, a best friend

and an advocate.

I am a goat milk maid.

I am a teacher, a coach and a historian.

I am an artist,

But I know that means something different today than it will tomorrow.

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One thought on “Untitled.

  1. This is your Desiderata. You are My Little Pony girl and I am your Bronie. We define, and angst, and strive, and identify, and meditate on the moving target of who we are and how that relates to our place in the boxless diorama of existence. In finding the luminosity of our strengths, we cast the shadows of our limitations, and we must accept the moment that washes through us or flows from us. Our meaning is self-bestowed, and that allows us to be more than we were a second ago.

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