Footnote: Not everyone is confident socially. And if you’re someone who is comfortable in their own company, often others aren’t comfortable with that. And a lot of kids get bullied because they don’t fit in too. The ultimate place to get to perhaps if you’re a ‘Bags the back seat’ person is being quietly confident, solidly grounded in your own place – despite the reactions and views of those around us.
Society generally looks down on the ‘loner’ too. Those who are different, those who live in their own quiet company. And for those who like all the attention, there’s something unsettling, almost threatening, about the quiet observer—one who looks on. Doesn’t join in. This ‘Ink’ also raises questions about position and status. What comes to mind are things like, ‘working your way to the top’, ‘climbing the ladder’, ‘securing the lead role’, being ‘top of the class’, ‘first over the line’, ‘making it to the top’ and ‘rising star’. And you’ll have more of your own to add. But the back seat has it’s advantages, particularly the seat on the isle – at least have the freedom to get up and leave.
(Reposted from 2009. Originally in ‘Rock The Boat’ book, 2009. Now in Clunk & Jam book, 2019.)
A Super Hero heroic friend, is someone who drops in at precisely the right moment, taking you in, up and beyond yourself, with no need for detail or explanation – because they have no need to know.
A Super Hero heroic friend, is comfortable enough in pain and role to welcome you in your own, tenderly cradling your place in time – and leaving the threads alone.
A Super Hero heroic friend’s words not only catch and soothe but wrap around shoulders made soft and light – as you lap long in the lingering warmth.
A Super Hero heroic friend, hovers quiet and long and never really leaves even when you go. Is solid enough to carry you with no show of strain – remaining loyal throughout your endless cause.
(Reposted from 2012. Picture from ‘Coles Funny Picture Book’. Find in Clunk & Jam book.)
I dance and spin in my lovely new dress. When I turn to smile, I see empty seats. Now I rise up on tippy toes to see where they don’t want me to go. Touch the sky without a hand. Dance wrapped in velvet. Curtsy to no applause .
Footnote: this ink has many layers but essentially it’s about the need for approval. Allowing others to define who we are. And who we are being defined by another’s definition of success, value or worth. It also speaks of oppression. Serves as a reminder to hold tight to self belief. And it reveals the often undetected partner in oppression. One where silence and inaction deliver equally powerful and crushing messages of disapproval. Ultimately, it suggests that striving to be independent and self reliant may reward us with a far greater sense of achievement, and sense of self, than being who others would like us to be – endlessly performing.
Alice (from Wonderland) tells her Mad Hatter friend her Uncle told her to wish for 6 impossible things before breakfast. With this in her tiny pocket she slays the Jabberwocky and everyone lives happily ever after – and we may not, but let us vow not to be beaten by Jabberwockys and impossible things for that matter.
Boy wished for impossible things….
….adults grew up and stopped fighting.
Roads didn’t take their toll and the sky could breathe again.
Mother nature didn’t get so angry.
Homes were homes and goodnight’s were safe.
Morning brought back the good ol’ days.
He was invisible to the world and it to him – and tears were allowed to flow as freely as oil and concrete.
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
Footnote: The poem ‘Invictus’ was written in 1875 by William Ernest Henley, an English Poet, who had one of his legs amputated at the age of 17. The poem, which he wrote while healing from the amputation, is a testimony to his refusal to let his handicap disrupt his life. ‘Invictus’ is Latin for unconquered. Undefeated. It was the anthem used for the Invictus Games this year.
Black peacemakers of inner conflict emerge from the depth of innocent souls. Standing firmly in experience. Boots too big, tripping up lies so old Delivering poignant punches of universal truth that swell much bigger than the silence. Inky stamps of self approval, forever fixed in soft white sheets. Together we rise – a revolution of self.
