Holidays are for puzzles, hot chocolate, rain tapping on my window. They're for staying in my pajama all day. Even... days. Holidays are for baking bread for the first time. I don't mean banana bread. Nope. I mean real luscious bread. The kind that needs flexing muscles and kneading. That needs yeast and a large dose of patience for it to rise. Holidays are for phone calls to old friends. To sad friends who are alone for the holidays. To happy friends that forgot about you but you call them anyways. Holidays are for buying flowers in the grocery store. On a whim. Because you feel like it. For no apparent reason. Holidays are for bathtubs, and movies, and hot soup that lasts for days. Holidays are for binge watching your favorite Netflix show, and then another, and then another. Holidays are for driving somewhere you haven't been before, for hiking somewhere you haven't hiked before, for doing something you haven't done before. Holidays are for missing family, because you are not with them, and even though they don't even celebrate the same holiday because they are in the other side of the world - you kinda wish they had, so you can at least be together in the metaverse.
Holidays are for boosters, and omicron, and frantic messages from friends saying 'um, you might have covid now, because we hung out with that friend of a friend of a friend that was confirmed positive on Monday!' Holidays are for freaking out thinking you had covid, only then to find out you just had the booster's side effects. Holidays are for feeling good about yourself that you lived through this pandemic for nearly two years and still did NOT get covid. Knock on wood. Holidays are for calming down a friend who dreamt they had covid, or the friend that dreamt that their friend had covid and died, holidays are for dreaming about covid. Holidays are for watching the news, because even though you know you don't really need to watch it, you kinda really need to watch it. Holidays are for looking up covid testing sites, just in case. And looking up testing at home kits, just in case. And buying K-n95 masks on Amazon, just in case. Holidays are for relaxation, except you can't feel any because you are panic'd over omicron and the state of the world and the global pandemic that never ends and the death rate rising and climate change going bananas and your life not turning up the way you wanted it to but then again some of it is a good thing, a really good thing, and and and and and and and and and.... holidays are for gratitude. That you are alive. That your loved ones are alive. That you have that hot chocolate from your favorite brand that your favorite person made for you. Holidays are for gratitude for the favorite person, for your pets, for your will to celebrate this holiday, for your will to be grateful, for your soul to expand and your body to move, for your hand to write and your heart to sing. Holidays are for you. Are for you to do whatever the fuck you want with them. Whatever the fuck YOU want with them. They're nothing more. They're nothing less. Happy whatever-you-make-of-them holidays.
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Dear Panic,
I see you, peeking your head out. As if asking 'is it time? Is it MY turn now?? Is she ready for ME???' I see you and I honor you and I gently put your back in my body. As if saying 'no, honey. It is not time. Do not be swayed by the voices of others.' And then.... you peek out again, saying 'but...but... but...' and I gently put you back and then again we have this back and forth game that doesn't seem to end. But it's okay. Because I GET you, Panic. You are simply... panicked. I get you. Especially since lately it seems like your kind has had its reasons to panic. Many reasons. One of them - the widely infectious Omicron Variant of Covid 19. And the thing about collective panic, as you know, is that it tempts you to peek out and want to join the herd of Panics out there. And when I don't let you - I'd like to think you get mad at me for that but secretly respect my reluctancy to panic and my 'cool girl' vibe, but in reality - you probably don't care about anything other then TO SURVIVE. So in a way... Your entity is being my very own PANIC ROOM, and it's up to ME to choose to walk in the room. Today I managed to tuck you in, but who knows what tomorrow'll bring. Possibly - a sound reason to PANiC. Until you peek out again.... ~Yours. Don't go gently into fire.
Go with rage, Anguish, Conviction. Soak in the fire with your soul, Make love to the lava, burn your flesh in its tentacles. Burn baby burn, Turn that fire into dust, Into STARDUST. AGAIN!?!?
Deja vu, anyone?!? Ugh, Omicron. The latest episode in the never ending season of 'Covid-19.' Instant panic and lockdowns are happening worldwide, 'coming soon to your city!' days before the Christmas holiday. And not just any Christmas holiday - the Christmas holiday after a year without an in person gathering - so millions will be reuniting with families this year, despite this very real threat. UGH! My 'Covid fatigue' has morphed into Covid ANGER! But who do I get angry at? The virus? The anti vaxx?? The whole world??? Anger, frustration and rage should have a target to aim at, and I am really unsure what or who my target is here. Sure, the anti vaxx is an easy target to get mad at. And believe me, I AM. But no matter how many anti vaxxers I'll troll on social media - most of them are firm in their beliefs and new variants don't seem to change that. And with all my frustration with the anti vaxx community -- I gotta respect their defiance. No... actually I don't. Scrap that. They deserve nothing but my frustration! But my frustration - as award winning as it may be - will not turn them into vaccinated members of society. So who do I get mad at? The virus? The virus is impressive AF. It actually to some extent united the world. Nothing or no one has ever done that except for money, of course. Money was the only belief everyone in the world agreed upon. And now Covid is the world's problem. And no matter how differently countries handle the crisis - it is a worldwide global crisis. The first real world crisis. If we want to ignore the impending doom of the environment due to climate change. So, who do I actually get mad at here?!? The answer may make me even more mad, but it's a simple one: No one. And nothing. Life isn't owed to us and isn't controlled by us. Things simply happen. And our feelings about them - yay or nay - DON'T CHANGE IT. So if you need to have a good cry - go at it. If you need to scream into a pillow - you go girl. If you need to talk to your therapist or best friends, do that. Because tomorrow - you better be fighting this omicron hassle with all your remaining might and boosted spirirt! Oh, the 405
giving me refuge, a breather five miles without service traffic is a gift to the workaholic So take me road, take me and all my glory take the laughter and the pain take my lessons on my prius and my dreams of owing a tesla one day then it will be just me and the road without wheels or any reason to be driving here or anywhere After all, i was given FEET i better use them walk until there is no more ground beneath me walk until i get to where i once was going walk until the earth opens wide and swallows me whole walk until the 405 is nothing but a memory of a time spent on the road with dozens other cars when it rains in Los Angeles waiting for the sun to come and for the road to clear i should have known i could have taken off my shoes and run barefoot the whole way run barefoot all the way home. POWER
(noun) *The ability to do something or act in a particular way, especially as a faculty or quality. *The capacity or ability to direct or influence the behavior of others or the course of events. (verb) *Supply (a device) with mechanical or electrical energy. *Move or travel with great speed or force. Power is more than a word. Power has more than one definition. Power is a world of meanings. Power is like the biggest nesting doll and in it there are countless other nesting dolls. Power is a broad umbrella to worlds of interpretations. Like for instances - power in society - how does it run? How does it gets abused? How does it corrupt? How does it support societies and cultures? How does it run the world? Or the individual power - the ability to do great things, and sometimes the hubris to do terrible things... Power's definition in the dictionary isn't the sum of all things. Not at all. It'a only an invitation to ask further 'what is POWER?' Some write poems to make you feel.
I do not. I write poems to make ME feel. To push me beyond my self imposed boundaries. To question my fierce unapologetic confidence. To beat myself and prize myself at once. To wonder and dream while I'm awake and suffering. To tickle myself when things suck and humor is my only sanity. To escape into a prettier world; the world of language and spirit and soul, whatever those may be. To resign into the loneliness of my mortal existence. To surrender to my inner child, the one that wrote poems before it was cool. To occupy my time, to fill it with feelings, with thoughts and cursives, and rhymes. To knock on the keyboard with strength only hands that write poetry posses. To laugh at myself and how seriously I take my life, your life, ANY life. To write. Because what else is there to do. To write. Because I want to. To write. Because I feel like it. To write because you told me to. Even if you didn't. To write even if you don't know that. Even if you didn't ask. Even if my poems will go back to the drawer, where they belong. To belong. To belong. TO BELONG. I could have titled this 'song of the day.' Or 'music of the day.' But those two will not do this ART justice. Because when art transcends beyond itself - it can't be put in a smaller box. What I love most about this piece of art, is the long stretches and patience between the sounds. It reminds me to embrace the moments in between the music, in between the sounds, in between the echos. There is a notion of rest and reward in the long lingering stretches of tunes and silence in this piece. I think of it as a listening meditation when I press play, close my eyes, and disappear into the melody. I picture the fingers tapping on the piano keys, delivering so much softness and conviction in their touch, feeling every moment without any expectation other than the very moment itself. Art at its finest. The night you
left I did not know who I would be after. Would I be an orphan Or would I be a widow Guess it depends who you were to me. I know who I was for you: I was no one I was no thing I was no body So you left. *** "Confidence is silent. Insecurities are loud."
~Jane Curnow When I first heard the above quote, I immediately thought of my high school years and other times in my life when I compensated for my lack of confidence by trying to appear super-confident; being vocal, opinionated, laughed along even when I didn't find things funny, carried myself with a power pose. But inside I was shaky, timid, unsure of myself, and deeply afraid of anyone picking up on that. But high school aside, I now look at this quote and see it from a whole other perspective: How do confidence and the lack thereof sound to US in our heads. Confidence is quiet like an inner knowing that I have to be very much at ease to hear, while insecurities and doubts are always screaming loud to make sure I hear them and tend to their worries. Meditation has helped me navigate around these very different sounds in my head and so does practicing a healthy mindset and inner talk. It's a seesaw, a game of chess, an up or down dynamic that is probably always going to be a practice and never fully achieved... |
AuthorIn April 2020, while experiencing her first ever global pandemic, Tamar Pelzig pledged to write something every day, even if it's only a word, so she welcomed to the world a daily blog to keep her creative writing wheels rolling. Categories
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Header Art: Daniel Landerman |