tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21833097380655918172024-03-05T15:39:36.517-06:00like the moon in autumnpieces of a lifeThe Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.comBlogger730125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-51457026093901423722022-10-16T13:29:00.015-05:002022-10-16T13:48:41.560-05:00roadside puzzle piece<p>On my walk, I saw </p><p>a puzzle piece</p><p>on the side of the road.</p><p>A few days later on another route</p><p>I saw dozens. I wonder</p><p>if they are lonely lying there</p><p>separated from their whole.</p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;">roadside puzzle piece</p><p style="text-align: center;">soon to be buried in leaves</p><p style="text-align: center;">things fall apart</p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU-uwWILtEA4LaAJrHYbqtRaX4ouu5xsUAEJGSBGRL_M4hUxNan008xx7wZKsviouJYzw7JV_mkoiH_Dl_qCBj-UrLD6wmrV_AGOOihmH5hWpgc5gvTxFJSDRT5Hm4xiEqNgBK3uKYkLDqSOOdJuIEG7KzZiwevN7sSn66CE7KP8s_8AAFzQeEFLrL/s4032/20220922_185909.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="2268" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU-uwWILtEA4LaAJrHYbqtRaX4ouu5xsUAEJGSBGRL_M4hUxNan008xx7wZKsviouJYzw7JV_mkoiH_Dl_qCBj-UrLD6wmrV_AGOOihmH5hWpgc5gvTxFJSDRT5Hm4xiEqNgBK3uKYkLDqSOOdJuIEG7KzZiwevN7sSn66CE7KP8s_8AAFzQeEFLrL/s320/20220922_185909.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><p></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK_9QHWJ5AAXmIhfmDrNwQkesX96znbyFQT1avNwHs88tzvFgJwJcSLub3xFEiZuIUqN-Ogcy1QBcnAulHKGmW32JpGaBapMEzKs2h93TdAplNYTdotKMOZY7fo0AR2vxr9n4FOXZrtoDjd3MVWL4a8lhVL6OOSjes5SwvI12jFlgNIr28dITkjBeH/s4032/20221002_143447.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="2268" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK_9QHWJ5AAXmIhfmDrNwQkesX96znbyFQT1avNwHs88tzvFgJwJcSLub3xFEiZuIUqN-Ogcy1QBcnAulHKGmW32JpGaBapMEzKs2h93TdAplNYTdotKMOZY7fo0AR2vxr9n4FOXZrtoDjd3MVWL4a8lhVL6OOSjes5SwvI12jFlgNIr28dITkjBeH/s320/20221002_143447.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p>The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-41586728305049459032021-07-20T22:24:00.000-05:002021-07-20T22:24:06.278-05:00so beautiful<p style="text-align: left;">forests burn</p><p style="text-align: left;">and the moon is so</p><p style="text-align: left;">beautiful</p>The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-54629287784124826722020-10-18T18:57:00.001-05:002020-10-18T18:57:39.327-05:00Autumn 2020 Keeping Warm Enough<p>It's autumn here. Cold, dark, brittle, rough, sharp, raspy, and dry in every way. Through my windows, I can't tell if I'm hearing music from forgotten summer wind chimes or bare tree branches. I am craving tenderness, reading and watching the equivalent of blankets and sweaters, fuzzy socks and warm tea. I want kindness and gentleness, and I feel repelled by rage and stupidity, sound and fury, and all the vague and unformed fear people are radiating like the coming the winter. I am reading about/watching people making food for others (What Did You Eat Yesterday?, Sweetness & Lightning), making art (Barakamon), learning to connect and grow despite trauma / mental illness (Natsume's Book of Friends, March Comes in Like a Lion, Fruits Basket, A Man and His Cat, Solutions and Other Problems), and growing up (Honey & Clover, Yotsuba&, Penric, Silver Spoon). </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm not looking for escape, I don't think; I'm not craving Aria or Strawberry Marshmallow. Many of these works I'm currently drawn to are not anything like escapist. Many of them are hard to watch/read. There are stakes. Bad things happen. Some things cannot be fixed. Some wounds cannot be healed. Some hurts are terrible. There are tears. (Sometimes even cried by the characters. : ) Despite that, all of these works have something in them (their tone?) that makes them like hugging and being hugged, a feeling of relief and warmth and comfort.</div><p></p><p>I refuse to completely be directed by my desires. I am reading hard things, too, like *Why Are All The Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria?* and *All American Boys*. But I am reading them slowly, and I am watching myself and stopping when I start to get overwhelmed. I refuse to stop learning altogether, but I also refuse to grind myself into the pavement in these Unusual and Hard Times. It's okay to take a break. It's okay to get warm if you're cold.</p><p>I am tired and thirsty, and we are in a pandemic where I have been prudent and have not hugged anyone in half a year. If you were around me when my health was at its worst and I was in pain most of the time and had such a wacky immune system and I had stopped hugging, you may not think this is a big deal. But I had a friend at work, and we hugged all the time, and it was a kind of lifeline. And at least once I month I would visit with friends, and there would be hugs. And before all that, before my brain's response to pain signals started to go more haywire, I was a hugger with people I was close to. So much that it used to annoy some other people I was less close to. : )</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3lVEEzcmvCRSMhQa2NXwGKpdJV9JXOj7celbulaabnSm1MSCwJb0bXBzIqUR5hi29AAF8ADL1ygKe01NGYU-YiQrdIcts-6IbIQqPpBtAEab5UFrT3KTosr1L52ZwdHU4k4W26PZN5mo/s2048/20201004_160019.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img align="left" alt="Picture of deck and sliding glass door with autumn leaves and blanket and feet of person taking picture" border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3lVEEzcmvCRSMhQa2NXwGKpdJV9JXOj7celbulaabnSm1MSCwJb0bXBzIqUR5hi29AAF8ADL1ygKe01NGYU-YiQrdIcts-6IbIQqPpBtAEab5UFrT3KTosr1L52ZwdHU4k4W26PZN5mo/w180-h320/20201004_160019.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>I am okay without hugs. Really. Even if, as seems likely, it's another year before I get to even cautiously return to them. Being okay without them is not necessarily a good thing in my case, since it seems to be based in an emotion-dampening trauma response, but right now I think it's quite useful that I don't need hugs because I live alone and work from home and can't have any. <p></p><p>It's also quite human to want the thing you can't have, so I want to hug people. But I don't do it because not hugging is a way to be kind right now, to help show my neighbors love and help keep them safe. Also, I don't have many opportunities, but even when I spent time with folks over the summer outside and at a safe distance, I did not hug even when I wanted to and when I would have Before.</p><p>I want to be After, where I am making up for lost hug time, where I feel more like I'm whole instead of holding it together, where I can rest and recover, where the shattering doesn't feel so close to the surface.</p><p>Until then, it seems like I'll be drawn to Fafner over Eureka 7 and A Bride's Story over the Way of the Househusband (I'm stretched thin enough that sometimes my laughter has a more disturbingly hysterical edge than my silent tears). And impulse is just fine. </p><p>I have enough blankets and sweaters and fuzzy socks to wear and read, and I will be okay. I hope you feel the same.</p><p></p>The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-76139059975029559162020-10-04T18:20:00.001-05:002020-10-04T18:20:59.738-05:00What she said and what I saw<p>"We have to send anyone with any upper-respiratory conditions there," she said when she refused me treatment at the urgent care for an ear blockage because I have asthma and allergies.</p><p>"Because there are so many pregnant women at this clinic," she said. </p><p>In the 30 minutes I am there waiting, I see no pregnant women. After 30 minutes, her superior comes to answer my question about why I have been allowed into their other clinics for physical therapy and orthotics appointments with the exact same answers to the screening questions for the past few months. She glares at the lady who denied me service, and I sense that she would have let me in, but since the first lady said no, she can't contradict that.</p><p>I drive to the city half an hour away. To "there." The first person I see at the entrance is a pregnant woman. She is Black. </p><p>Inside at the screening desk, I am required to take off my well-fitting, three-layer cotton mask and put on a uselessly loose, cheap, one-layer mask. There is no hand washing available before I put on my new mask. When I ask about it, I am told there is a small, enclosed, poorly ventilated bathroom I can touch a door to go into or a hand sanitizing dispenser I can touch. I'm told to proceed down a number of hallways.</p><p>Everyone I see, patients and staff, are people of color. A number of them are pregnant Black women.</p><p>When I find the correct desk, I am told the wait is 90 minutes, or I can schedule an appointment, drive home, shower, do a little bit of work in great discomfort, drive back, wait an unspecified amount of time, finally get treated, drive back home, shower, and finally focus on work. No appointments are available around my work meeting. The ones that are, they cannot guarantee I would actually be seen at those times.</p><p>I haven't slept. I think hard. I ask for a number to call and schedule, and I take it. Then I drive to the place I should've gone first. They don't even ask screening questions. After several hours, and three sets of exposures to whatever is floating around, I get home and wonder why they don't care about people with chronic upper respiratory problems being around the very real pregnant Black women in the city but do mind us being around the theoretical white pregnant women in the suburbs.</p><p><br /></p><p>August 2020</p>The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-57971728241619933832020-09-21T21:08:00.003-05:002020-09-21T21:10:54.974-05:00On resuming writing after a major hiatusIt's been a while. You made some rookie mistakes. You forgot to put the speed to fast/ draft / ink saver and had to get more ink in a pandemic. Forgot to put in page numbers for the first several chunks. Forgot to print in reverse order. You did finally use up a lot of that case of paper you accidentally bought, what, 15 years ago?<div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfqixLbZkLGS69FcJNuvP_GYuYBjsZmyhfRIqNMoBdZRw6sBwR0GCpSy5kjfq5HWTClNDLFN1fFu6nIvX79K4sCvIKl5b5zmo7B6qurcmkcpyWHQAHvRTSwjjiwphjacYVLk-11wZKLKU/w113-h200/20200907_111944.jpg" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6RVuLqlHkqGgO55r_y3nkHBTftjgB_vLrmMlrPWBRjYB5ZlQ6KLRK4wsgxTrEKKK-J9E1xGZ_rsFJcYyLCJVNi_wLZDxhOgFrHYeX1jfIxVsvoWGGiN-a9gm3qG_bMORgpxWTkS43zw4/s2048/20200908_155939.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6RVuLqlHkqGgO55r_y3nkHBTftjgB_vLrmMlrPWBRjYB5ZlQ6KLRK4wsgxTrEKKK-J9E1xGZ_rsFJcYyLCJVNi_wLZDxhOgFrHYeX1jfIxVsvoWGGiN-a9gm3qG_bMORgpxWTkS43zw4/s320/20200908_155939.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Seeing this stack of some of the things you blogged from 2009-2017 (even though there is so little after 2014 when I moved for real), you feel inspired. Organize them. Connect them with clips. Read them in chronological order, a time machine to a decade ago. Look at all these things you thought about, crafted into a rough shape, and launched. Some of them are even good. Look at the pile. Just look.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center;">And do it again.</p>The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-62030338108759128532019-12-15T17:14:00.001-06:002019-12-15T17:14:57.707-06:00seriously howhow am I so bad<div>at accepting compliments</div><div>even at my age</div>The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-35816250691084222562019-11-12T20:32:00.001-06:002019-11-12T20:32:55.791-06:00two in a rowtwo perfect moons rise<div>huge as they dance through the veils</div><div>did you see them, too?</div>The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-53494568581983355172019-10-22T20:50:00.001-05:002019-10-22T20:50:43.487-05:00endingthe leaves <div>on the decorative </div><div>crabapple tree are </div><div>rusting away<div>maple trees </div><div>are finally </div><div>bursting </div><div>into </div><div>brilliant </div><div>red </div><div>flame </div><div>against wet dark wood</div></div><div>the rain seems incessant</div><div>while wind splatters wet </div><div>leaves on everything and </div><div>on days with no sun </div><div>when the light is</div><div>being eaten </div><div>away by more</div><div>darkness it feels</div><div>like everything</div><div>is ending</div>The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-54628404588419640872019-01-24T22:12:00.000-06:002019-01-24T22:12:03.356-06:00to rise
<br />
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Go outside now and look
to the moon limping</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
low on the horizon
where it rolled to a stop</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
after it was kicked
and now glowers, half-collapsed</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
ball of copper,
misshapen lunar lump waiting </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
to rise</div>
The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-86693335218014292982019-01-06T20:25:00.000-06:002019-01-06T20:25:20.843-06:00the heart never lies?
<br />
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Is it a saying that
the heart never lies? </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
When work stress was
on, my heart rate </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
(average resting)
was 74,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I visited</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
family, it was
78.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I got back home</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
and was on vacation,
it was<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a better 71.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
When I sang with
folks at the pub today, </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
it was 60 bpm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe my heart is </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
deceitful and
desperately wicked, but</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I think it loves
music an awful lot.</div>
The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-82060296842200790392018-12-05T21:27:00.000-06:002018-12-08T21:32:26.521-06:00if you only believeI was taught<br />
if you only believe<br />
when it costs you<br />
nothing<br />
you don't<br />
really believe.The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-73471224865501930552018-11-28T21:42:00.002-06:002018-11-28T21:42:52.246-06:00Shuubun in September
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFt9IvsualmtfGvW2juystaeTt8MaBpNUxe4J7kCIMI_bBNSEcGy5vceZaRk5mIhCJd9Wfx8DtL5QWlmk0T1jjJcHmar69QlB3oybQmf_IjbdVV9eH-68aoQWEzS1tMPrN2GzTlwJ6Jtk/s1600/shuubun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="810" data-original-width="1440" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFt9IvsualmtfGvW2juystaeTt8MaBpNUxe4J7kCIMI_bBNSEcGy5vceZaRk5mIhCJd9Wfx8DtL5QWlmk0T1jjJcHmar69QlB3oybQmf_IjbdVV9eH-68aoQWEzS1tMPrN2GzTlwJ6Jtk/s320/shuubun.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
This.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a word for this</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
direction we are
sliding toward</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
this melancholy rage
against</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
the dying<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>weakening<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>waning</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
of the light this
moment when</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
darkness and light
are in balance,</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
and then the darkness
takes over</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
for a time and we
slide into slumber</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
praying to wake
again at some next</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
balance point when
darkness is at</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
its height and then
it turns again</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
and we see at last what light breaks</div>
The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-60347883509792522732018-11-21T19:11:00.000-06:002018-11-21T19:14:54.440-06:00what I want to do for my birthdayshe asks what do you want<br />
to do for your birthday, and I don't answer<br />
for days because I am composing lists<br />
in my head of all the impossible things<br />
I want to do on my birthday<br />
<br />
bask in a hammock in the warm sun of early summer<br />
not drive anywhere<br />
take a bath<br />
<br />
read a book,<br />
a whole book,<br />
and not be in too much pain<br />
during and afterwards<br />
<br />
make delicious food without pain<br />
eat foods I like that make me sick<br />
and not get sick<br />
<br />
enjoy time with my friends without stress and pain<br />
talk to my sister without mental illness getting in the way <br />
<br />
write without pain<br />
walk without pain<br />
rest without pain<br />
laugh without pain <br />
<br />
sleep deeply and well without pain<br />
wake up refreshed and alert without pain<br />
live one day without pain<br />
<br />
she asks what do you want<br />
to do for your birthday, and I think about how much<br />
I want to finish something, anything, today<br />
<br />
but then I think maybe that's not the most important thing<br />
to do today, maybe instead I should<br />
start something new with or without pain<br />
as a new year of my life begins, and that is something<br />
I can and will do on my birthday<br />
<br />The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-32423236430050743712018-10-16T21:05:00.000-05:002018-11-28T21:24:27.717-06:00I would believe him
<br />
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I would believe him</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
if he says</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
'I don't remember'</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
because who</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
remembers</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
every</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
curiosity satisfied</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
strength exerted</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
small pleasure taken</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
destructive act
towards another</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: right;">
our brains </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: right;">
do not </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: right;">
work that way</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I surely do not </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
remember, but</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I hope </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
that I am wise enough to know</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
that what I do or
do not </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
remember does not
change</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
what did or did not
happen </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
to anyone else</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
that when someone says</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
'you hurt me when you
did this'</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
that I will be
humble enough and strong enough to remember and say</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
'I am sorry I did
that to you.'</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
Can you forgive me?
What</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
can I do </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
for you </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">
to
atone?'</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
that I will not
lash out</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
that in the hot
moment of shame</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
when accused of
wrongdoing</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I will not lie</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
by saying it didn't
happen </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
simply because </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I
don't remember</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: right;">
as if I believed </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: right;">
that what I remember</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: right;">
could possibly </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in; text-align: right;">
change reality</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I don't believe that
someone</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
who does not know
this truth</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
of how the mind
works, </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
that what we
remember is not reality, </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
should be given </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
power over others </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
to abuse</div>
The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-21760228548498614882018-10-09T21:03:00.000-05:002018-11-28T21:05:24.188-06:00What it costs to believe<br />
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
My mother said</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
she </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
believes </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
me.</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
It costs </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
her nothing</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
now to say </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
she would have </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
given up the church</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
that helped keep </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
her alive </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
if I had told </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
and the church </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
had not </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
believed me </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
then.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When she said that,</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I believed</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
my mother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
believed </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
my mother </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
until we talked, and
I </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
discovered that </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
my mother</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
does not believe </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
a woman coming </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
forward now with </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
nothing to gain and</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
everything to lose, </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
a grown woman </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
telling now, </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
when it costs </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
this woman </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
something </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
(maybe
everything).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
Believing this woman</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
would cost </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
my mother something </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
that she is not
willing </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
to pay, and I wonder</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
if my mother really</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
would </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
believe </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
me </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
if it cost </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
her something,</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
and I find </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
I don't know </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
if I believe </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
she would.</div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
<a href="https://www.vox.com/first-person/2018/10/15/17968534/kavanaugh-vote-supreme-court-sexual-assault-christine-blasey-ford?fbclid=IwAR1tMf5k6tSfwea536_NrJuuEad1xFHUuF-NOJ3LMcL-qJhBA_kayx4lgJ0" target="_blank">This is a well-written, short prose piece</a> from Rachael Denhollander on the same
topic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I highly recommend it. </div>
The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-30630835850902856322018-10-08T21:37:00.001-05:002018-10-08T21:37:28.875-05:00falling<p dir="ltr">this autumn I hurt<br>
in all the broken places<br>
fingers to feet to heart </p>
The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-68594705249856656742018-09-29T13:56:00.001-05:002018-11-21T19:14:23.360-06:00Before you ask <div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="color: white;">Were you wearing suggestive clothing?</span></span></div>
My 6th grade school uniform <br />
<ul>
<li>plaid skirt below the knee</li>
<li>knee socks</li>
<li>shoes</li>
<li>Oxford button-up shirt probably buttoned all the way up</li>
</ul>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="color: white;">Had you been drinking? </span></span></div>
Hadn't ever had any alcohol <br />
that stuff smells disgusting<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: white;">Were you wearing lots of makeup?</span></div>
No makeup, no interest in makeup<br />
gets all over everything when you sweat<br />
during recess <br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: white;">Were you flirting?</span></div>
Am asexual<br />
had never flirted or shown any kind<br />
of sexual interest<br />
in anyone<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: white;">Were you in the wrong place?</span></div>
In the hallway<br />
outside the 6th grade classroom<br />
after school in broad daylight<br />
waiting safely inside for my late ride home to arrive<br />
looking through the glass doors<br />
with a view of the playground<br />
<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="color: #999999;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="color: white;">none of this should really matter</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="color: white;">because the only reason </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="color: white;">sexual assaults happen </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="color: white;">is because people </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="color: white;">sexually assault</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><span style="color: white;">other people</span></span> </div>
The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-25866313054076802572018-09-29T12:59:00.000-05:002018-09-29T16:24:59.263-05:00Dear family member<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: "arial";">Dear family member,<br /><br />I know that, to you, this situation is wholly political, that in your mind, there is no way this person could be telling the truth. <b>I know that’s where it starts and stops for you.</b> I know that you cannot imagine that any of the controversy is NOT political, that any of the anger and sadness is genuine, real, and not motivated by anything related to party lines. I know that your party would rather have you believe in a conspiracy that seems rather incredible than believe that someone would see it as their duty to tell the truth about someone who is being considered for a position with one of the highest levels of power in our country. I know that your party has convinced you that no one, after years of silence, could possibly choose out of a sense of duty as a citizen to speak up about their pain, knowing that</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial";">they would face harassment, doubt, and judgment outside a court of law</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial";">their life would be at risk</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial";">they would never be safe again wherever they went</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial";">they were giving up the normal-seeming life they had pulled together over the years </span></li>
</ul>
<span style="font-family: "arial";">unless it was part of conspiracy formulated by the other party. (I fail to see that she has anything to gain here except more pain made extremely public, but you seem unable to even consider this.) <b> I also know that you are not trying to hurt people, that you are merely trying to clearly state your opinion on a very fraught topic.</b><br /><br />I suspect that there may be a sudden silence about this issue among the female friends who have agreed politically with you on everything in the last few years; I suspect you don’t know what that means. You seem so blinded by party politics that you don’t see the situation with anything approaching openness or compassion, that <b>you don’t understand how personal it is for people who have been through the same thing</b>. (I’m pretty sure you have not been through the same thing because I would find it hard to believe that anyone who had would be able to be this blind just because of political affiliation. I’m sorry if I’m wrong about that and am assuming too much.) <br /><br />I know that it’s likely you are unaware of the psychology of sexual assault victims / survivors*. I suspect you have never sought to educate yourself about it. I even suspect that no one has ever personally confided in you their story of their own sexual assault. My reason for believing this is that you can still react in a way that asks the question: "Why speak out now? Why not when it happened?"</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="color: red;">(CONSIDER SKIPPING THIS GRAPHIC IF YOU HAVE EXPERIENCED SEXUAL ASSAULT) </span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJwtjzaZukrQ_4bjl4UYLgMWcWCNpxtIZaQGs2Lpm7I62SXHzIRIIwon6pAWQ0ypAgoIzQVtSm7zWCPXJoWUw1YMQataLocpjl8we35iWMlOsDJQPMPnetxx__6ce7_wn0aSe-7yEVa30/s1600/FBIINvestigation.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="611" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJwtjzaZukrQ_4bjl4UYLgMWcWCNpxtIZaQGs2Lpm7I62SXHzIRIIwon6pAWQ0ypAgoIzQVtSm7zWCPXJoWUw1YMQataLocpjl8we35iWMlOsDJQPMPnetxx__6ce7_wn0aSe-7yEVa30/s320/FBIINvestigation.png" width="251" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial";">You posted this on Facebook today, without awareness or irony, and, as far as I can tell, without any shred of understanding or empathy. It is an answer to the question, "Why don’t victims speak out?"<br /><br />Family member that I thankfully only see once a year, YOU are part of the problem, part of the reason why victims don’t speak out. This kind of blind, politically-driven opinion is a slightly different (and much more repugnant) flavor of the same old story that leads to only a fraction of assaults being reported. When you say what you said above, what people who have survived or will survive sexual assault hear is, "It's safer not to tell the truth. Even when it matters. Especially when it matters."<br /><br />I can now add your view as expressed in this Facebook post to my list as a perfect example of why I would never disbelieve someone’s assault story simply because they didn’t file a police report at the time.<br /><br />Here’s another list, for you, of some of the reasons why I didn’t report it when I was sexually assaulted</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial";">I was <a href="http://mooninautumn.blogspot.com/2018/09/before-you-ask.html" target="_blank">in 6th grade</a>.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial";">We grew up together in a smallish town and attended the same church and church school, a place where we were never taught anything about sex or consent or anything even vaguely related to the two, and my dad and his dad were friends and my sister and his sister were friends.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial";">I was mortified and disgusted and had no idea how to deal with the overwhelming feelings and confusion. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial";">I knew it would cause trouble, and my mom was (I was pretty sure, though no one would TALK to me about it) dying at the time.The principal hated me and had shown clearly that the consequence of me reporting observing anything having to do with inappropriate sexual stuff was for her to scream at me in her office for what seemed like hours, accusing me of being a liar, troublemaker, and all-around evil human being who was just successful at hiding behind a good girl mask. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial";">My father had expressed that old-school sentiment of, "What did she expect when she _______? (She had it coming)" when we heard about some poor girl being assaulted after drinking or being alone on the sidewalk at night or wearing makeup and a short skirt.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial";">I knew it would cause trouble, and my mom was (I was pretty sure from objective physical evidence, though no one would TALK to me about it because I was only in 6th grade) dying at the time.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial";">I didn’t even know I had other options. (See: "I was in 6th grade")</span></li>
</ul>
<span style="font-family: "arial";">I know it’s not exactly fair to put you on that list of why I didn’t report as a 6th grader because I didn’t know then that you held such a poisonous view, and I know that this present, particular instance is surrounded by a political cloud due to the nature of the situation and the players and seems somewhat exceptional (or was until 2 other people stepped forward to also volunteer to have their normal lives destroyed), but that’s honestly chaff to me at this point. <br /><br />For whatever reason, <b>you don’t want to look or listen, you don’t want to see or hear this person’s claims, and you say you want to see their life further destroyed simply because it is politically inconvenient for you that they are talking here and now, that they are saying that someone your political party chose sexually assaulted them.</b> When you post things like this on Facebook, when you express these sentiments in real life in person, you are encouraging others, especially the young women in your life, not to tell you or report to anyone, and you are hurting people who didn’t report at the time. People like me. Your relative. <b>It may seem simply political to you, but to me it’s personal. </b> And because you are related to me and likely by blood or friendship to others who have also been or will someday be sexually assaulted, <b>it really is personal to you, too</b>. Please keep that in mind.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><br />*Today, right before I saw your post, I learned that "being triggered" doesn’t just mean being offended by a difference of opinion from <a href="https://lifehacker.com/how-to-cope-with-the-current-news-cycle-as-a-sexual-abu-1820823444" target="_blank">this one</a>. It’s a physiological reaction, not a difference of opinion. It’s surprisingly related to a lot of the current research on chronic pain that I’ve been looking through. </span>The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-65768614031086037292018-08-14T22:28:00.001-05:002018-08-14T22:28:12.723-05:00Another sci-fi moon<p dir="ltr">Another sci-fi moon<br>
even more spectacular<br>
than last night: a tall<br>
hazy sliver burning red<br>
with forest fire smoke</p>
The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-64013536512301999802018-07-28T12:21:00.002-05:002018-07-28T12:21:37.443-05:00Things not to do when you're sickThings not to do when you're sick<br />
<ul>
<li>Go to the funeral</li>
<li>Lick the thank you notes closed</li>
<li>Go to the birthday party</li>
<li>Go to the lecture</li>
</ul>
The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-32511220589741303642018-06-27T21:39:00.001-05:002018-06-27T21:40:01.206-05:00Tired moon<p dir="ltr">so tired I can't quite focus<br>
on the moon shining brightly<br>
as it tags out the last light<br>
of sunset and sends the sun <br>
down to a well-deserved rest</p>
The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-84519651083748859102018-03-04T14:59:00.000-06:002018-03-04T14:59:17.341-06:00February wearydestroyed car<br />
new windshield already chipped<br />
February weary of winter in Minnesota<br />
$2300 medical bill that insurance said they'd pay<br />
right arm that keeps going numb <br />
broken computer<br />
<br />
I am feeling done with optimism<br />
for the new year already<br />
but oh<br />
the snow today<br />
was so very beautifulThe Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-55944066322513407812018-02-10T15:02:00.000-06:002018-03-04T15:02:28.242-06:00maybenot that we see<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
but that we look</div>
not that we find<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
but that we seek</div>
or at least don't stop<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
(for long) </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
being open</div>
The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-18845892430092991462018-02-03T15:04:00.000-06:002018-03-04T15:06:25.092-06:00resistingresisting the impulse to do <b>something</b><br />
just to be done with something, anything,<br />
not even considering whether it is the <b>right</b><br />
thing to do or do not, unable to see<br />
the choice to try to be, just beThe Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2183309738065591817.post-5529815335537564882018-01-27T19:00:00.001-06:002018-01-27T19:00:24.640-06:00Slightly Worried, Confused, Relieved, Proud<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the sun shines brightly in the sky</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
above the mess of snow it has made </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
like a dog after vomiting on the carpet</div>
The Moon in Autumnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00746463775107732805noreply@blogger.com0