Reflections on Hope

All The Fish in the Sea

I was having a conversation about dating with a friend the other day.  I mentioned that I wasn't like other women.  I'm not on the hunt, looking for someone to complete me.  I'm living my life and waiting to see what love may bring my way.  "I'm a sea anemone.  I'm doing my thing, stinging and running off those fish that aren't a good fit.  Waiting for the right one to come along."

"If that is the case, then all you'll attract is clown fish," he replied.

I thought about for a while.  Is that so bad, really?  What did I want?  A shark?  A barracuda?  A swordfish?  No.

I want a clown fish.

Humble.  Spunky.  Bright.  Willing to cross the whole ocean to save the person he loves, but happy to come home to me.  Perfectly suited for what I have to offer, and just right for me.  A clown fish isn't necessarily cool or glamorous.  It's definitely not the sexiest fish in the sea.

But damn.  I do love a good clown fish.

In fact, for a while, I've had my eye on one particular clown fish.  He's the best, brightest, most adorable, and wonderful clown fish I've ever encountered.  Truly the best one I've seen.  I've often thought he's be a perfect fit for me in every way I can think of.  But there is one major problem.  He really wants to be a shark.  

Being a clown fish isn't acceptable so, I watch him try to swim with the barracudas.  I see him try to chase the swordfish and the sharks.  It ends in disappointment time and again, because he doesn't want to accept that he's not suited for those other creatures.  But what can an anemone do?  You can't make a clown fish stop wanting to be a shark.  So you have to let that one swim away - and wait for the clown fish who knows and loves who he is.  

Prank

I'm almost certain you meant no harm.
Just like the kid who thinks it would be funny to pull the chair out when his buddy is getting ready to take a seat.
Landing flat on your ass?
That's comedy!

You didn't anticipate the events that followed.
Me flat on my ass - yes! - Ha!
But with my skirt up over my head - completely exposed.
Even that could be laughed off - mostly.
In front of an audience - and you have a nice added dose of humiliation.
Well, that upped the ante a bit, but I'm pretty good at laughing at myself.
It still could have been a really good joke.

But something happened on the way down.
I landed wrong - jarred something.
And now I'm completely paralyzed.
Immobilized.
Helpless.
Powerless.

It was a simple prank - a flick of the hand.  An afterthought.
But I'm forever altered - and not for the better.

I hope it was worth the laugh.

Drought

May 2015

He staggered up to the reservoir
Parched.
Could smell the water on the other side.
Knew it was there
Desired it desperately.

Only a trickle dribbled out
From a seam here and there.

He spoke softly to the wall - asking it to yield its water.
When that failed, he yelled at it.  Beat it with his fists.
Kicked it so hard he injured himself.
But the water would not flow.

He found a sledgehammer and swung hard.
Once, twice, three times.
Frantic, furious.

The trickle became a dribble, but still
His thirst was too great.
His will too weak.
He staggered off to seek a second source.

As soon as his step receded into the distance
There was a crack.
Each place the hammer had struck began to crack.
Each impact, a crater.
Each crater the center of a web
Each crack in the web began to spread.

The wall -once so impenetrable - suddenly gave way!
Water - sweet water - fresh, crisp, pure -
Poured forth in endless supply.
Quenching and cool - plentiful and refreshing.

But he had shuffled on.
Still parched.
Still seeking.
Never looking back.

Bon Voyage

May 2015

Here by this river, I release you.
At one time we stood here together, but not together.
That day I was clinging to you so tightly - as if you were my lifeline.
This day, I am alone - further downstream - and here by my own power.

Here I release you into the flowing waters.
You must navigate your own course, just as I have mine.
As I release you, I blow a gentle breeze of love into your sails.
I wish you calm waters and a clear path.

Bon voyage.
This river flows one way, so I know this is the end.
Bon voyage.

Maker

My whole life I've been a maker.

I make plans
Make progress
Make sense.

I make ends meet
Make a living
Can make a meal that will make you moan

With one hand, I hold up a household.  With the other, I run the world.
I.  Am.  Mighty.


You need something?
I can make a suggestion.
Make you laugh
Maybe even make your day.

When it needs to happen, I can make a move.
Make a decision.
Make changes.

I can organize, classify, and evaluate the options.
I.  Am.  Resourceful.

But let me make a point.
And please Make no mistake
I have found some things that I just can't make.

When I make an attempt to
Make those things happen,
I seem to always make a mess.

See, I can't make a heart open.
Can make time speed up.
Can't make anyone make room for me.

I can wish.  I can wait.  I can want.
None of that seems to make any difference.  I can make no excuse.
I.  Am.  Powerless.

So rather than making time,
Or playing at make believe,
I choose to make myself a promise.

I will make a resolution
To make myself some space
Not to make
But rather just
To be.