Envy and bitterness
leaching through messages
Attacking success,
perseverence, achievement.
Pick them apart.
Minimize them to maximize you?
Hey dude,
Are you compensating?
Facing ‘if such unremarkable folk
can do it,
why can’t you?’
Is wondering why they’ve won
making you feel useless?
Um.
Maybe the difference is
they quit making excuses
and just got it done?
.
such a long time
in the making.
planned so long ago.
waiting.
injury
healing
tiny steps
tiny steps
tiny steps
make the journey
so
long
but here we are at
the
end.
.
.
.
August 2018 Nikolette Jones and I bantered out the plans for 3 Nikki Knox stories that I would write by August 2019. Unfortunately, August 28 I suffered a brain injury that meant time off work, therapy, and a long road of recovery. I have been dabbling for 2 years with the 4th book, and it is FINALLY finished! It is two years late, but it’s here at last! Nikolette is busy with the art and there will be a new, lovely Nikki Knox 4 book compilation out in the next few months! Yay! It’s so good to have a brain that’s working again.
.
.
.
.
.
Small victory
multiplied.
Big tasks
divided
into
parts
so
small–
how could I not succeed?
Deadlines
focus goals.
Day by day,
Chew each bite thoroughly.
Done!
Launch hope with a key stroke.
Completion is victory enough,
but still…
Fingers crossed.
Eventually
Reality has to intervene.
You’re not destined for the NHL
Or the corps de ballet
Your voice will not sell
A million records.
Simon sends you packing.
Reality can suck.
But if playing hockey
Brings you happiness
Why stop just because you’ll never hoist the Stanley Cup?
Dance like nobody’s watching
Sing until you’re smiling.
Don’t let reality rob you of the joy
Of the activity itself.
The rush of a beautiful pass and goal.
The beauty of a perfectly formed pirouette.
The harmony than hums in your ear.
Celebrate those moments for ten thousand hours.
They say ten thousand hours yields excellence.
Perhaps you’ll need twenty.
Or thirty.
Embrace the joy.
Share in a community of like minds.
Perhaps after forty thousand hours
Your reality will change
And if it doesn’t,
At least you’ll nurture your soul.
Like reality,
Success has many faces.
Some days
I feel like a little kid standing against a ruler:
“You must be this tall to ride.”
Stretching beyond all comfort,
but still coming up
short.
The never ending circle
of expectation raised
no effort was applied
of failure achieved
makes me want to scream.
What makes the difference
between students who give up
and those who persevere
to find success?
Perhaps it’s in their mantras:
I don’t care
versus
I care.
Those who say they don’t care, do,
but they simply don’t believe
they can.
When you gave me these bangles,
(artisan made, grown-up gift for the babysitter)
you oozed confidence, security, achievement.
In your warm brown house with its plush carpet, modern art,
and dishes spun on a pottery wheel,
you were cozy cool, the perfect mom in the perfect family:
professional husband, professional mom, two cute kids.
You had it all together.
But everything dissolved,
first family to divorce,
then your mind to madness,
finally your body to cancer.
Now you are dust, and the memory of you chimes
on my wrist in tarnished bronze and copper bangles,
and jingles, “Celebrate now, for who know what the future brings?”
For years I’ve been waiting to be in this place
where creativity, exploration, and delight for the job
make every day a fulfillment of what I wanted it to be
Where traces of our joy leak from the doors and windows
Where faces laugh and there is genuine care and knowing,
so going the extra mile feels like walking home,
because each of us belongs.
Four lanes of traffic gush past
the single stunted sunflower
stretching through a cleft in the pavement,
blooming in adversity.
Waiting
Dating each moment
Painting future memories
Rating satisfaction
Creating
.
.
.
I counted down for 572 days. Here we are! Incredible how quickly hours fly by when they’ve been anticipated for 572 days! But each hour so anticipated is to be savoured and enjoyed for 572 days to come, and then beyond.
Shawn L. Bird 