Swallow

The prickly feet of every tiny, inky word wills me to spit them all out
But the string of preservation tugs
And I close my mouth.
The tap-dancing words shuffle on my tongue until I swallow them
(scraping and rolling and coiling to the boxing match on the floor of my stomach)
In one big gulp.

Get It?

Do you ever feel like you could explain yourself 'til your brain turns inside out and yet people just won't get it?

The Black Hole Of Never Here

Chug chug chug
Hello! We saved you dinner.
Fling a hug
What's going on?
Missing something--what? Not important.
Well, you're never here.
Chug chug chug
You're back! How was home?
My feet barely touched the soft carpet.
We're off to sing, didn't you know?
Well, you're never here.
Chug chug chug
Long hours in a classroom.
Square walls, powerpoint, smart board.
Chug chug chug
Please be empty, please be empty.
Empty. Quiet. Breathe.
Chug chug chug
Home again! Any laundry? Help bring bags in from the car?
Ah, my bed.
Off again!
Chug chug chug
A train, 1 train, all-day-long train
You missed it.
Missed what?
Well, you're never here.
Chug chug chug
Grandparents! Barbeque!
What? When? No one told me.
Well, you're never here.
Chug chug chug
Oh - it's you! Where've you been?
I'm not sure.
Leftovers from midnight dinner with the boys?
A little motion-sick.
Leaving again?
Well, you're never here.

Never here
Never there
Never anywhere.

Senses

I'm taking a class this June called Developmental Variations. It's a class in child development for kids who develop atypically - aka kids who have special needs of all various sorts. Yesterday, I was grouped with a few others to do a presentation on hearing loss. While working together, we came across the videos below.

Cochlear implants are actually a very controversial issue for the Deaf Community. Some members are extremely against the idea of getting a cochlear implant or of considering those who have one to be part of the community. Others are more open to the idea.

As someone who is hearing and who has no direct connection to the Deaf Community, it is not my place to weigh in on the issue. However, the videos below moved me enough to make me want to write a post about them.

Thinking about people who cannot hear - and who have to wear devices in order to simulate hearing - makes me really appreciate the fact that I can hear naturally. That I can see naturally. That I can taste and touch and smell. That I don't have to think about my senses because they work and they've always worked. Our senses play such basic, vital roles in our life experience - we may not even notice how much our lives would be different if just one of our senses was not working just a little bit. They are so fragile. Some of us may not have to ever think about our senses because of how basic they are. They are working constantly so they fall below our notice. But imagine how much in the forefront of our attention they would be if one of them wasn't working even a little bit?

Getting Your Words Out

Every Sunday, I spend two hours helping out at a writing workshop for six wonderful third graders. I watch them write the kind of stories that eight-year-olds tend to write...the kind of stories I used to write as a kid. And sometimes...I'm a little jealous of them. They don't know many of the rules and conventions of writing. They don't all know about the proper way to format a piece of writing. And, being eight, they're not expected to know.

"Is it true you have to start a new paragraph every time someone speaks?" asks one girl.
"Yes," says the teacher.
"Oh...I haven't been doing that..."
"Don't worry about it," says the teacher. "Just get your words out. We'll do editing later."

I don't know when it happened, but at a certain point, I became too obsessed with the way stories are supposed to look and sound, and I became constrained in my writing. I sometimes wonder what changed about me. As a kid, I wrote furiously and prolifically. I was constantly in the middle of several stories. My imagination churned faster than I could write and, even before the days when I could type on the computer, I filled notebooks and pads and random scraps of paper with stories. I felt powerful, like I could write about absolutely anything in the world. I felt comfortable and free.

When did writing cease to be an activity of freedom?

I think I should hang a post-it somewhere near my computer that says, "Just get your words out. We'll do editing later."

Getting your words out is a big deal, and the more you mean them, the harder it seems to be.

Life's Good

Hi all. I know it's been a while. I don't have anything in particular to write, except that life is good. And busy. And good.

I hope you're all doing well, as well!

My first semester of graduate school ends in two weeks, so maybe I'll be able to write a real post then...

If We Hold On Together

Seeing as it's Rosh Chodesh and I can actually post something with music, I'm going to post a song I really like. It's actually a Diana Ross song (featured in The Land Before Time), but this video is of a ten-year-old girl singing it. It's really pretty. Enjoy!