Showing posts with label child rearing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label child rearing. Show all posts

Sunday, March 9, 2014

Pictures and Frames

March 9



PICTURES AND FRAMES


I paint my way into the corners of the frame.  Each picture I fill diligently, color, texture, all the tricks I use.  I work hard to get the desired effect.  I hold nothing back; I put heart and hopes forward.  I load my brush with pigment; I propel my tongue out of my mouth.  I use it for balance like a kangaroo uses its tail.  Stroke after stroke, I layer the image.  My depiction is fresh to me.  I bring the green, the red, the blue, blue, blues; all of those flow from me.  The canvas fills; my soul soars through the tinctures.  Then the disappointment begins, the complaint and lamentations.  The perspective is off.  I can’t seem to contain this scene within the confines of this gilded prison.  I re-adjust.  I tilt my head; I paint from the bottom up, then the top down.  No, no.  I must pick up a new canvas, the frame oak, burnished and honeyed brown.  I cast to the side the gilt and sculptured casing; I lay it along the wall with the others, the many discards of life.  As yet, the obvious has escaped me; the tint, the hue, angle, size may diverge but that is all.  I have recreated the same scene in all the frames.  In all my attempts, I have painted only one picture.



Learn your process.
*

Résistance


Resisting tough love
is approaching long run action
with short run thinking.

I hate to set the toddling babe down lest he fall,
but in the end if I do not put him down
he and I will both be the worse for it.

Whether I see a forest or I see trees
depends so very much on my perspective,
also on my willingness to delay
the prevention of minor scrapes
to eliminate the need for permanent scaring.

The theme is greater personal responsibility
and less irrational fear.
Guarding tomorrow’s possibilities
by not hamstringing them today
through the resistance of tough love
saves lives, it saves mine.


You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Life is Unfair

February 19



LIFE IS UNFAIR

Assuring myself I will not be permitted through the gate, I walk the perimeter, assessing the fence, looking for a place to exploit, a wire slightly high.  Trying to look graceful, I duck under the fence, telling myself I prefer life on the edge.  The water is less dangerous here on the fringe; I wouldn’t want to be swept away.  I stay clear of my peers.  I stand in the baby pool and feel confident I won’t drown, brushing from my conscience that I won’t swim either.
Struggling to the top of the pile or scurrying underneath is a blatant lack of humility.  Skirting the margin is the same.  Facing life and finding it unfair, I take to the world of exception and hope to slip through the cracks to a life of safety.  In that act I discount my talent and ability.  Worst of all, I disconnect from God.


Toy with your thoughts, play with your food.
*


Jenny

Though ignorance may be bliss,
living in the shadow of someone else’s
ignorance is sheer hell.
The confusion is bad, but the lies are worse.

Want to cripple a child for life
give it to a well meaning fool
who has the rule book to the wrong board game,

That child will grow to need crutches they don’t make
and medicine they can’t brew.
Dependent on misguided insanity the child will require
a miracle cure and may lack the ability to ingest it.

Best case scenario the kid makes a brave escape
into a world she can barely comprehend,
worse case she turns the rule book upside down
and reads it backwards to her own unfortunate brood.

Ignorance is always a twilight proposition,
half agreement the other half handcuffed nightmare.
Full consent is by necessity impossible
while blameless innocents is similarly unachievable.

The only suggestion I can make
from this side of the looking glass
is to pick your poison and plan your getaway.



You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault