Three Poems from the Summer Grinch

My parting gift of a few poems I've written this month before I sign off for the summer.

Confession: Kind of I hate summer.

I didn’t always, but since being a mom of school-aged children, every summer is an experiment in how to keep my sanity in the constant company of my four delightful, unscheduled, snack-inhaling offspring.

Typically it’s a failed experiment.

Last day of school here in Washington is Tuesday and I’m trying not to make my usual transformation into summer grinch where I retreat into my cave grumbling about all the noise and merry-making.

“If there’s one thing I hate it’s the noise noise noise noise.”

One thing I have observed through the years is the more I give myself to do over the summer, the more grinch-y I become.

So I’m giving myself nothing to do this summer.

I’m taking off spiritual direction sessions until August (you can still sign up for an August session here).

And I won’t start writing again here on Substack until at least mid-August (but let’s not hold our breath until September).

I’ll let you know how this year’s sanity experiment goes! Until then, here are some poems I wrote this month. Enjoy!

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Compensation for Failure in the Home

Yesterday I heard Jane Fonda say,
"What can I say? I wasn't a good mother."

And I felt a sort of soothing in my heart
like a masseuse rubbing out a particularly tight knot.

Jane Fonda- single-handedly getting environmental bills passed in Louisiana, California.

Jane Fonda- arrested time and again for refusing to not stand up for women's rights.

Jane Fonda- living reminder to us all to just give it a try and you'd be surprised how far you can budge the un-budge-able.

Jane Fonda- "I am not a good mother,"
she says to me through my ear buds-

Me- terrified I'm permanently damaging my kids' brain development with too much screen time because I need the quiet. 

Me- so aware of all my parenting flaws- 
so aware of how long parental imperfections stick with a kid.

Me- sure all four will need therapy for the damage I'm now creating by playing favorites, by not validating every pain, by adding my own pain for them to cope with on top of theirs.

And then this angel of a human, this goddess warrior whispers in my ear buds,
"but remember- you are more than a mother."

Survival of the Fit

Did you know that in Darwin's original
Origin of the Species
no where
not once
does it include the phrase,
"survival of the fittest"?*

the term he used was
"survival of the fit"

and how different would our species have originated these last few hundred years
if we understood that survival doesn't require we be fittest over anything?

If we understood that all life asks is that we fit
into life already flourishing around us?

*note: the phrase “survival of the fittest” did not appear until the book’s 5th addition, which came out after the Social Darwinists (those using Darwin’s ideas to study humans) coined the phrase into popular use. Us humans…… we love our rankings.

Soul Hugs

Sometimes I wish I still believed
in that version of heaven
where when we die
our souls look like
our bodies did in life
and we keep 
our same personalities
and memories--
our eternal soul
uniquely forever
owned by our own 
fleeting temporal self.

Because then,
hypothetically,
I could go up to 
Brandi Carlile's soul
(and she would look 
like herself)
and my soul could hug
her soul and I could say
thank you for writing
and singing
"By the way I forgive you"

And maybe I could find
Liz Gilbert
and hold her hands in mine
and offer a genuine thank you
for writing that Instagram post
publishing her letters to love.

Then maybe I'd seek out
Dolly Parton
and thank her for dreaming big dreams.

Then Brandon Stanton 
for having the curiosity
to write that first
Humans of New York post.

And Taylor Swift
for making me and my daughters happy.

As it is,
my current hunch
is that when we die
the part of us thats eternal 
merges back with the whole
it came from
and changes form
as needed

but maybe,
maybe we can still find
a little piece
of Liz Gilbert soul
floating among the stars

and give it a hug.