I used to write a lot of poetry.

And some of it was actually pretty good. I want to still write it, but i have a hard time finding the words anymore. I used to write songs too. Some were lame, but some had some pretty damn good lyrics. (sorry it just sounded fun to say "damn" when talking about some of my own work. haha) A good number of them had meanings i didn't even understand until a while later when i looked back on them. somehow words had come from some hidden place with in me, trying to tell me something... but it took me so long to understand or to pick up on it.

i wonder if my outer life became too poetic to put on paper. or to have a need to. but that just seems ridiculous.

but lately with school and life i have had so much to think about. so many characters within me that want voices...and answers. sometimes i feel like a rotted out piece of wood to them...to saturated to process any one thing. and so they just run thru me all wild and river like. i want nothing more than to be able to write some kind of poem for them that i can look back at later and explain to myself...and at last see what it is exactly i am trying to say.

sweet refuge...sweet refugee

Last night I layed in my bed and cried. School has started back up again, but since me and todd are moving to MOAB! i will not be returning to east high....or to the kids who i gave my whole freaking heart to. I went to East a couple of times with the new person, Garderner, this week to introduce him to my friends and help get him started. It was heartbreaking. Tashi had been waiting to see me. His hair is getting long. We talked about his dreams of being in India. Esta told me her baby is walking. Josephine moved. Leslie and Mary almost knocked me over when they came to give me a hug. Jasmine said I can't be replaced. Naima talked about her dreams of going out with some one famous and about how much fun we had last year. Yohanna's in foster care. April and Marko broke up. Victoria still hasn't gotten her model shots. So basically you can see, my life was a little bit wrapped up in this refugee highschool scene. And as henious as it was, i am not sure if I can hand them over. I spent so many akward afternoons begging forien looking kids to come hang out with me and getting yelled at by teachers to go to class. We spent hours and hours together. Working out every part of their lives from power points, to being in a new place, to finding rides to the early morning assembly rehearsal. I sat on their couches and heard their stories. I stayed late after work to listen. I shared with them some of the most important things in my life...hiking, planting trees, todd, chess, and i'm just not sure if i can turn them over. It broke my heart to walk away yesterday, even though I know I needed to let Garderner have his turn. But to you Garderner, all I can say, is you can't love enough. That will be your only regret, is that you held back too much.

the poor are always with us...

remember that saying? Well tonight as we were driving home and I was getting ready to come into work I was thinking about the people in the shelter. When we passed the prison, I thought of the people in there. Then I asked todd why it is that some people end up on the recieving end, while others of us end up on the service end. I remembered a girl from new life centers who had just recently gotten out of jail and then went to an eating disorder facility. why was it okay for her to be on the recieving end of these institutions? How is it that my coworkers and I only picture our selves on the service end? I wondered what it would be like to even entertain the idea of being on that side of things, and how did the other half of exsistence end up over there? But the poor are awlays with us, and even within us. . .

As I step back and think of myself as a whole, I realize the potential for me to cross to that side is there. Within us all is a light and dark, yin and yang. Each of us is capable of great and lowly. We are not disconnected from people on different paths, we are all connected in that we are made of the same potentials and in that we are all simply creative extentions of the infinite. That brings me a lot of peace and turmoil all at once.

Yet when I take even another step back and even another step back after that, I realize that this same patturn is manifested in all systems of life. You can see it in society, which is nothing more than a reflection of us. You can see it in the spirit of the earth itself and the the giant universe it is a small part in. It all thrives on it's oppisites: fall and spring, dessert and jungle, morning and night, light and dark, yin and yang.

and so the poor are always with us, because they are us. We are not as separate from anything as we would sometimes like to be. but i think instead of scaring me, this gives me a fresh perspective of my connection to those i deam my oppisites, and a stronger desire to find and cling to light and to help others do the same.

me and you and pee and poo

sometimes if you think about what life is, it can get weird and overwhelming. in a way that makes you want to hide under a blanket or in the tube toy my mom gave us when we were little. does anyone remember that? and sometimes it seems so simple and wonderful you think you might burst.

last weekend i was swinging with my nephews. i love my nieces and nephews so much that i am sure i was never loved the same by anyone. malachi was on my lap and brigham was next to us. i was holding his hand so we could swing the same. we were singing in and out to help us pump. then i remembered that song from sword in the stone, only i couldn't really remember the words, so it was going something like:

in and out. thin and stout.
that's what makes the world go round.
in and out. up and down.
that's what makes the world go round.
red and blue and sock and shoe,
pee and poo and me and you,
and that's what makes the WORLD GO ROUND!

and when i said 'me and you' brig looked at me and smiled. and when i said pee and poo he laughed a bit. and when i think about the way he looked at me as we swung and held hands i thought...."and that's what makes the world go round!"

just before the sun comes up

well, it is 6:15am and i am in my final hour of work for the night. It has been strange, to say the least. i have almost quit this job a million times, but here i am again in this big, haunted, creepy, dirty, dingy building. Everytime i am here, i can't help but think that if my family and friends could see me while i was here, they would pee their pants. the other night sar and jez were over and we were talking about what our lives would look like as movies. jez's would be full of productivity and action, but i admitted that mine would be pretty uneventful. but then jez said it would be amusing. i chuckled at that, but as i think about it, i have to admit that i agree for the most part. weird occurences and situations flock to me for some reason. and i always get myself wrapped up in weird tangents and scenerious and projects and what not. and i especially feel that way when i am here. when i throw big blankets into the laundry in the basement, trying to avoid the bed bug break out and the loud pounding sounds the pipes make periodically. this truly is one of the weirdest set ups i've gotten into. but none the less, i think it's quite amusing. i wish the darn sun would come up so i could go to sleep.