December 11, 2016

…can I be honest? Shi Sai Sunday Part 2

By Kat Myrman

Okay, so I just had an opportunity to test my resolve, my belief in the power of love. It has left me exhausted and questioning everything. If there is one thing I have held myself to with this blog, it is my determination to be honest, even when it hurts. So this is about me…and my flaws.

I got in a spat with a facebook “friend” over another one of those viral diatribes that seeks to guilt those of us who didn’t vote for Trump to stop the hate, to respect their decision, to get over it and to admit that just because they voted the way that they did does not mean they are deplorable racist, misogynistic, nationalistic, fanatic evangelicals. You know the drill. We have all been bombarded with this stuff; the call to come together, to hold hands and sing kumbaya while our country implodes.

Normally I just scroll past, consider the source and enjoy a few cat videos. But this time was different because this person singled me out, tagging my name. I suppose I should have scrolled past but I didn’t. To their baited question, “do you really think I am deplorable?” with a clear accusation in the printed text that if I do, I am the problem, I admitted the truth. Yes. Yes I do believe that, despite all the ugly evidence presented during the campaign, a whole group of people held their noses and voted for a monster, their support of him is deplorable.

I didn’t make nice. I didn’t reassure this person that I thought it was perfectly okay that they did what they did. And I was honest as I could be. Their vote and their determination to have me justify them with my approval was not something I could give.

Of course I had just written about love. This morning I boasted that love is everything and that I am called to love. I started to feel guilty. I started to feel like a hypocrite. I was not loving. Love is hard.

But then my intuition, my heart started whispering to me. I remembered who I am. And I also started to see the vicious cycle I have allowed myself to endure again and again. I realized that I have given up on and refused love to the most important person in my life. That person is me.

Two weeks ago I studied the types of love. I learned that loving oneself is an important prerequisite to our ability to love others.

I’m terrible at it. I am really good at being the selfless martyr, of not being able to say no, of avoiding confrontation by smiling when others ridicule me and my bleeding heart for caring. But it is time for that to change.

Being loving does not require that I compromise myself or my convictions and beliefs. Love does not demand that I turn a blind eye to injustice, hatred and threats to the freedom and safety of myself or others. Love does not force me to respect your decisions if I believe they are wrong, though I certainly respect your right to make your own decisions. Love does not call me to endure abuse from others. Love encourages me to care for myself.

And so I chose to unfriend yet another Facebook “friend”. Not because I am hateful or unkind, but because I am trying to be better at taking care of myself. It’s the first step, after all, in loving others. Frankly, I need a break from the vicious gloating and veiled threats from those who “won”. I am still here if they want to talk respectfully about the issues that face us all. I am still open to a two-way dialog. But I do not bear the burden of proving or justifying someone else’s choice. Right or wrong it is their decision to live with.

So here I am. This is me, for better or for worst, working at being a better human. It’s hard. And I still believe love is all. I’ve just added myself to the dance card.

Remember to love yourself my friends. It’s important and you are so worthy of love. ❤️

~kat

6 Comments | posted in Random Thoughts and Musings

December 11, 2016

Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 11 December 2016

By Kat Myrman

This week’s Shi Sai is growing on me. For several weeks now, many of us have reeled from the incomprehensible aftermath of our failed Democracy. Yes failed. There are no winners. We are all losers. And with each passing day the lunacy of it all spirals faster and faster, boggling our minds. To think that an angry, easily duped minority put us where we are is just plain crazy!

And yet this is our reality now. A parallel universe where rewards are presented to the highest bidder, where those who object are vilified, where truth does not matter, where opinion is the only thing that drives our conscience, where facts are inconveniences to be twittered away, where lies are embraced and repeated until they become mantras for the deplorables among us…the racists, misogynists, nationalists, white supremists and evangelicals, where the incoming leader of the free world is less interested in governing and more concerned with how his newfound title will affect the bottom line of his brand, where laws and the constitution don’t matter, where privilege has finally reaped its ultimate goal…world domination.

Sounds like a nightmare doesn’t it? For a majority of us, it is. It’s like some bad dream we can’t wake up from. And yet…and yet…for those of us who are most definitely awake, this is no time to curl into fetal positions, hide under blankets and hope for the best. We’ve been here before after all, and our forbearers fought for those of us who would come after. They believed in us and the future, saw that glimmer of hope at the end of the tunnel, dreamed beautiful dreams and marched through their collective valleys of shadows united, not in misery, but in love and unity of purpose, dressed in a peace that confounds understanding…yes, in peace.

How can we aspire to anything less than? When the dust settles and we are faced with the reality of what we have inflicted upon ourselves, yes all of us, for none are innocent, what will our response be?

In a perfect world faced with seemingly insurmountable challenges, our response must be to remember who we are, to do justice, to have compassion and mercy, to love, to forgive, to walk humbly, to be the change.

This is why this week’s Shi Sai is growing on me. It’s a clarion call rising from the depth of my soul, nudging me out of hiding, into the light. I know what I must do, I’ve always known. And even if I can’t trust anything around me, even if I can’t believe what I am seeing in the present, I can hope in the future and trust my intuition. I know what I need to do and be. It’s simple. It’s four letters that mean everything…L…O…V…E.

Peace and love to you. Remember who YOU are and listen to your heart. It knows the way forward. ❤️

Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 11 December 2016

A woman’s heart remembers things
should I tell them I know?
when someone plays on my trust
proof they’re not well (b)read
behind our locked doors and walls
memories in shades of gray
a great victory the unraveling,
she is everywhere
it’s the cock’s clarion call
and crying babies
to rouse those who sleep
following
my intuition
always gives
me peace.

~kat

The Shi Sai (formerly known as a ReVerse) is a new form I came up with during Poetry Month in April 2016. I’ve actually been writing shu sai for years but was inspired to give it a proper name. It is a poem created by taking one line of verse from several poems of an author’s own collection. The shi sai is done as a review of a series or collection of poems and therefore, each line should flow in chronological order of the dates the poems were written (from oldest to new). The lines chosen should be the author’s favorite from each poem. This form works best if the author resists the temptation to read the full new poem before all the verses have been added. (It helps one to resist the impulse to change a line to make it “fit”.

8 Comments   |  tags: , , , , | posted in Digital Art & Photos, Essays, Life Lessons, Poetry, Random Thoughts and Musings, Shi Sai, Social Issues, Spirituality, Week in Review

December 10, 2016

Magnetic Poetry Saturday – 10 December 2016

By Kat Myrman

For Elusive Trope’s Magnetic Poetry Saturday Challenge.


Intuition

following
my intuition
always gives
me peace

kat – 10 December 2016

5 Comments   |  tags: , , , , | posted in Digital Art & Photos, Magnetic Poetry, Poetry, Spirituality

December 9, 2016

Clarion – Friday’s Word Of The Day Haiku – 9 December 2016

By Kat Myrman


Happy Friday! Today’s word of the day on Dictionary.com is Clarion. It is defined as a1. Clear and shrill: the clarion call of a battle trumpet, and 2. An ancient trumpet with a curved shape.

It is when the one gets into the origin of the word that things get interesting…

Origin of clarion

The etymology of clarion is clear and simple. Spellings of the equivalent term in Old French include clarain,clarin, claron, clairon, clarine. The diminutive noun in French formed from clarine is clarinette, meaning“clarinet.” Clarion entered English in the late 1300s,clarinette in the late 1700s.

But I think my favorite reference to the word is in its application in a quote by Jane Goodall:

“This book is a clarion call to rouse such people fromspineless acceptance of the status quo. I cannotstress strongly enough that every individual makes a difference.”
Jane Goodall, with Gary McAvoy and Gail Hudson, Harvest for Hope, 2005

Inspired by Ms. Goodall’s words, I give you a few Haiku. Have a great weekend! 😊

Clarion – A Haiku Study

those who are awake
shriek a clarion warning
to rouse those who sleep

clarion crooners
sooth the rage of common beasts
and crying babies

it’s not the sunrise
it’s the cock’s clarion call 
that rallies the dawn

kat ~ 9 December 2016

6 Comments   |  tags: , , | posted in Essays, Haiku, Poetry, Random Thoughts and Musings, Word of the Day Haiku

December 8, 2016

Seasoning – Part 20

By Kat Myrman


Painting by Carl Vilhelm Holsoe – in the dining room

Seasoning – Part 20

“I just realized how hungry I am,” Hannah giggled. She sat down and took a bite of stew, and another. 

Henry laughed as he too sat down and helped himself to more food. “Tell me about you, Hannah, your family. These past few days you’ve felt so familiar but I realize I hardly know you.”

Hannah swallowed and dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Well, there’s not much to know. This is my first housekeeping position. Until now I have lived with my parents at the Waverly Estate.”

“How long has your family lived at Waverly? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“I’ve been at Waverly my whole life. Well, until now,” she grinned. “My parents met there. And no, it’s just me. My Father shared his love of gardening with me…”

“So that’s where you get it. I wondered.”

“Yes. And my mother taught me everything there is to know about managing a household. I started to cook as soon as I could hold a spoon.”

Henry took another bite, “She taught you well! I would like to meet them one day.” 

“You’d love them I think. Everyone does,” Hannah beamed, “but enough about me. I’ve been noticing the family photos on the mantle. I recognized you and Helen, but there were two other children; your brother and sister?”

“Yes,” Henry smiled, “I’m the youngest, and Helen is the oldest. And then there’s Laurel and Samuel, or Sammy as we called him. Laurel is a teacher and Sammy, well,” Henry saddened, “Sammy died the year after Alice and I married.” 

Henry paused. “Alice,” he thought, “in all the excitement this week, I haven’t thought of her. Not once…” 

Hannah felt helpless as the silence grew, “I’m so sorry Henry.” She reached toward his hand but he pulled away fumbling for his napkin.

“Thank you Hannah. Sammy had been sick for some time. We, Alice and I, moved here to help him. She was a nurse. Alice was…” Henry drifted, “she was wonderful with him.” He forced a smile, “Well, I’ve bored you enough. It’s getting late. Can I help you clear the table?”

“No Henry, I’ll have this cleaned up in no time.” The aroma of peach cobbler wafted from the kitchen. “Oh, I almost forgot. Would you like some dessert? Marjorie brought us peach preserves.”

“Thank you Hannah,” Henry stood up and kissed her on the cheek, “but no dessert for me. It smells wonderful and dinner was delicious,” he sighed, “but I think I’ll turn in for the night. Are you sure I can’t help you?”

“You go along Henry. I’ll see you in the morning?” Hannah’s heart sank. He left the room without answering. 

After cleaning the kitchen Hannah returned to her quarters. Her mind was a jumble. Had she said too much? Maybe she shouldn’t have pressed him about the family portrait. Watching his mood plummet stirred up every doubt and insecurity she had.

“Remember Hannah,” she whispered to herself, “you are here to do a job. You’re the housekeeper. This is not your home. It’s her home. She is everywhere. Most of all, it is quite clear that she consumes his memories. No woman, not even you, can compete with a ghost.” Hannah pressed her face into her pillow and cried herself to sleep.

————————————-

Installment #20 of Seasoning, a fiction series inspired by Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction Challenge. To read previous chapters click HERE. 

5 Comments   |  tags: , | posted in Fiction Series, Short Stories (300+ Words)