Haiku Pour Vous

In college, I received an A+++ on a Haiku assignment. I was damn proud of that A+++. After all, how many A+++'s do you see in one lifetime? And I'd never even considered myself a Haiku master. Typically, my writings tend to veer toward the rambling and long-winded side versus the tight, succinct poetic form. (Shocking, I know.)

When I put together my first work portfolio, I included the A+++ Haiku paper. This decision resulted in great entertainment for my husband.

"Do you really think an employer is going to be impressed with an A+++ paper... on HAIKU?"

In my defense, however, I was applying for a job as a writer with Hallmark Cards. Of course they'd be impressed with my ability to wax poetic. (Obviously, Hallmark was not blown away. I made it through to the final cuts, but didn't ultimately land the Kansas City job. That, however, is a different blog post altogether. One that might aptly be titled, "The Darkest Hour" or "Fuck You, World" or something similarly angst-ridden and devastating.)

Throughout the past 22 years, my Haiku grade has become a household symbol of my need to be Right. Or The Best. Or The Smartest. (Insert your own moniker here.)

Some examples?

ME: Mary Claire only missed one on her spelling test.
CHRIS: That's good, but it's definitely not an A+++.

ME: I'm having trouble with this chapter of my book.
CHRIS: Honey, you got an A+++ in 1992. You can do ANYTHING.

ME: Why can't you actually pick up your dirty socks and put them in the hamper?
CHRIS: Well, obviously, it's because I never got an A+++ in Haiku.

You get the point.

So, here's where things get dicey.

I don't want to be Right anymore. It's so damn unattractive.

And what am I if I'm not right?

I'm so much more.

I'm open, authentic, loving. I'm a safe place to land.

I want YOU to be right. I want you to have an A+++.

And that, my friends, is what we call a shift.

So, today, I leave you with this...

Universal love
From an open hand and heart
Is most powerful

XOXO

Journeying

"Just a small town girl livin' in a lonely world. She took the midnight train going anywhere..."

Okay, I'm not really talking about that kind of Journey. But when I think of the word Journey, I can't help but think of Steve Perry and his penchant for jeans that left nothing to the imagination. (You can take the girl out of the 80s, but you can't take the 80s out of the girl.)

The journey I'm describing, however, is a different one altogether. And the vocabulary required to tell the story still eludes me.

I'm digesting. And processing. And learning.

I just completed a leadership and enrichment course that has changed my perspective in ways I could have never imagined.

I just created powerful, intimate relationships with people who -- two short months ago -- were complete and total strangers, people who will forever cause my heart to skip a beat and encourage my arms to hold on a little more tightly.

I just learned how to be courageous and authentic and loving.

The world looks beautifully different today. The sun is brighter, the colors more vibrant. My husband is more cherished than ever before, my kids more wholly loved and appreciated. (Yup, even George.) My heart is full of gratitude.

Today, I can fly.

Words -- the devices upon which I've always depended -- fail me. Today, they are inadequate representations of what is real, what is important.

Hell, I've been singing along with Jennifer Lopez and The Judds all day long. THE JUDDS! If that doesn't indicate a change, I'm not sure what does.

What I'm experiencing is truly a journey. My path will veer and meander and -- quite possibly -- end up in a place I never knew existed. (Once geographically-challenged, always geographically-challenged.)

I'm not there yet.

But I'm never looking back.