I got to thinking. Go figure.

I got to thinking. Go figure.

Standing directly in front of she
really being me, in all my insanity.
Her looks at me & says,
“you’re funny Jules..”
when humor isn’t my intention.

And her tells me
“you’re beautiful,
in every way..”
when my hair
is monster style
and I’m scrambling
for truth & meaning

And, sometimes,
her shouts out,
“you’re adorable..”
and at 35 going on 70,
I couldn’t feel farther from it.

And her says,
“J. You’re sweet. to be true.”
and I think..what did I do?

And sometimes her speaks
some of the only words
I want to hear..
“you’re an incredible mom…”
even after a day
that I can’t manage to muster up
enough genuine joy
to pass it on to
the sunshine in my life.

Or, him looks at me,
with all his raw honesty
and laughs out,
“mama, you’re WEIRD..
but in a GOOD way..”
when I feel plain
and rather uninteresting.

So I got to thinking.

I must not be what I feel.
I most definitely am not what I look like.
And I am not who I think I am

I got to thinking…
if I’m funny because I’m humble
if I’m cute because I speak the truth
if I’m sweet for keeping a friend in my thoughts,
if I’m good weird because I have little kid moments
of made up alien language and snuggle fights,
if I’m amazing because I make pancakes
by throwing bananas and cashews in a blender,
we need new words for who I want to be.

Mother Theresa,
Dalai Lama,
the list goes on…
Are there words
to penetrate the depth
of who they are/were?

in the most unprocessed way.
tending & mending
to broken hearts
& lighting fires
to ignite dreams.
Giving one’s everything
for the shes and the hes
and simply put,
exuding what I aspire to be..

WE ARE PART of this universe
where there are kids
who are perpetually hungry,
women mutilated,
babies in dumpsters,
young dreams crushed
child brides, slaves
F***. There’s too much.

So then I got to thinking more…
Can a girl who makes pancakes
make a difference in she, he, them,
one, two, three, millions?
There are so many fights to fight.
and I want to stand strong
dry tears, stop feeding my fears
stand smack in the middle
of battle and help
even one

Today, her said..
“what would you do with $20 million?”
Shit – then finally
I could take the pain
I feel for the world,
and help make it go away..
But as I answered
I swallowed the reality…
that there is pain
just next door
every. single. day.

And so no,
I’m NOT content
with who I am.
While I seem to settle
for adorable
or sweet
or incredible
or amazing.
(Maybe at times I’m weird in a silly little boy way.)
But I’m not content…
not close.
What is amazing?
And incredible?
No use looking
to the dictionary
for guidance
because these letters
spell nothing.
null & void..
from overuse.

To love
with raw empathy.
To see
with full compassion.
To walk humbly
with unassuming warmth.
THIS is who I wish to be

Just like the sun…
never withholding,
without refrain,
unbiased & genuine.
Hidden at times by clouds
but eternally lit.
My challenges
and my own tears and fears
must not put out that fire
that lives
inside me..
that connects us all.
because my soul is meant
to connect to yours
and hers, shes and hes
his and them, yous and theirs.

Yet the process of
from cave
back home
in my heart
where winter
slowly melts away.
Letting in those
who aren’t afraid of my
“do not disturb” sign.
Those who love me freely
without need or justification
who can believe like me
that even the deepest seed
some day will reach the light
And not only will it see
for the first time,
it will forever be changed
into something far more deep
than it was ever buried,
and far more beautiful
than it will ever know it is..
because humility is the essence of each flower.

Thank goodness I’ve managed to forage
a lifetime of nuts
that seem hard and round and
impossible to open..
yet are simple and true.
They are my daily exercise routine..
they make and shape me
but will never break me.

Criss cross applesauce
doesn’t apply to adults.
Behaving like good little pretzels
isn’t the key to life
“Shana Punim” was so much more
than anyone ever told me..
It took me who knows
how many lifetimes
that what we look like
has no bearing whatsoever
on who we are..

Who we are is reflected
not in any mirror,
rather in those who we love,
in the connections we keep,
in those who we touched
even just for a moment,
the impact we make,
the smiles we give freely,
the open arms we lead with.

So I got to thinking.

If I’m standing in front of she
whose reflection does her see?

xo jules