Is it crazy or sane?

The bars of the cage stare at me
I cannot tell which side I am on
The crazed look inside the faces
I cannot tell which side they are on
How will I know who is crazy
How will I know who is sane
Who decides what is crazy
Who decides what is sane

The black is empty around me
Not warm or fuzzy or pleasing
More like an empty, barren void
With nothing to offer inhabitants
How will I know who is crazy
How will I know who is sane
Who decides what is crazy
Who decides what is sane

Thundering over my skin
Consuming the space in my ears
Nothing fills it or completes it
Lost and fearful without a path out
How will I know who is crazy
How will I know who is sane
Who decides what is crazy
Who decides what is sane

Everything'll Be Okay...So they Say

Murky, obsidian scene
Shadowy, swarthy looks
Lugubrious, grimy skin
Squalid, starless surround

Agitated, concerned eyes
Timid, quivering voice
Trepidation behind smiles
Revulsion blocks throats

Faltering, shrinking glance
Fearful misgivings inside
Looking fretfully out
Seeking hiding places

THOUGHTS

Racing through the corridors
Like liquid molten lava
Chasing through any open doors
As if to capture something
Maybe if they will slow
Then there will be room for more

Tiptoeing through fragrant meadows
With a breeze gently lifting the petals
Rippling softly as the river flows
As if to caress the shore
Not concerned as much with destination
But with the knowledge the source holds

Glowing and pulsing points of light
Like a star vibrating in the atmosphere
Ubiquitous whether morning or night
A tranquil force that pulses
Resolute and persistent it shines
The burning core is lustrous and bright

slow it down

slow
slow
slow
how against our human nature
yet how comfortable that can feel
if you let it sink through
all the way into the core of you
slow
slow
slow
how remarkable to take the extra time
to stop and notice how this feels
to do it right the first time it is done
and not have to fix the mistakes of panicked ones
slow
slow
slow
to savor the flavors of the feelings
to gather the sensory explosions
to be enveloped in the knowing what you see
to be confident that this is where you need to be
slow
slow
slow........................

is it not okay to get angry?

I got upset one day
At something worth my emotion
I used my anger in an appropriate way
Only to be met with confusion
What was I so mad over?

I tried showing them the parts
The places of doing instead of talking
I tried to show them it wasn't so far
To the land of actually accomplishing
Still, they want to know what I'm mad for.

Then, I saw a glint of something more.
Of something I had not noticed before.
A gleam of fear hazed over their eyes
As I forcefully expressed my points.
Maybe I will go away if they close their eyes.

The fear was rather startling
As it came to stage and made itself known
It is pushed to the side by irritation
At having to deal with my eccentric ways
They will roll their eyes when I am done.

I want to show my kids

I want to teach my children about their innate knowledge and power and potential and how to access that and use it to acheive what they desire.
I want to help them avoid being categorized by "normal" and find out what their individual role in the world is.
I work at an agency that works with foster kids, so I have 15 other kids that are part of me and my life. I am trying to remind the people I work with and that I am surrounded by through this job of some of the reasons they chose to work in this field (b/c its usually not the money :) I do not want people to be unrealistic, but I don't want them to get so bogged down in the politics and the ass-kissing that they forget that we are there because there are damaged children who need our attention.
They don't need our pity.
They don't need to be coddled or limited or patronized.
They need to be developed and encouraged and paid attention to and acknowledged and given boundaries and held accountable and given positive emotional support through it all.
And, if something is not working, then we need to fix it; not pretend that it will get better on its own or that it is too big a problem to attend to.

I spent a lot of years giving me away and now I am taking me back so that I have something valuable and worthwhile to offer my intimate, my children, my friends, my community, and the world. I want to have an environment that allows for the individual expression of thoughts and ideas and for the communal responsibility and enjoyment of each other.

I want to remember that we can and do impact and affect each other and we should not avoid it; rather we should find ways to enhance eachother by being our most valid selves.

16

Do you remember 16?
Isn't it interesting that when we do, it is with wavy memories?
At this point in my life, 16 seems rather charmed.
I remember boys and first kisses, first holding hands, first dates.
I remember family holiday gatherings with food and teasing Tyler.
Oh, and pretending they all weren't going to get high when our family left.
I remember dying my hair black for Halloween and then, oops!
It will not wash out. Dang, my hair was REALLY black.
I remember Mrs. Anderson's english class and I remember the quad at lunch.
I remember Janae and Elizabeth, Gretchen and Jamie, Cindy U., Jackie,
Nicole and Amy, Christian and Emily, Danielle and Michelle...and various others.
I remember crushing on the other Vorce brother. I was so NOT into Matt.
It was the other one (Jared).
I remember seminary at the Killian's house and junior prom. Janae and I spent that night at Desiree's. My mom spent way too much money on that dress. I think my wedding dress cost less (maybe that's appropriate...)
I remember Girls Just Wanna Have Fun! Church Dances. Swing Dancing!
I remember my surprise 16th bday party (nope, not at all a surprise).
I remember youth conference and girls camp and I remember when I started dating Kyle.
That was the year we had Trish and Cindy as advisors in church. It was also the year Jennifer and I vacationed to Vegas and Utah.

16 seems so sparkly and charmed. I remember how much I dreamed that year. I remember imagining and creating. I remember the possibilities that the world was holding for me to come and get.

Maybe that's why I don't remember quite as quickly the disappointments and frustrations. I don't remember that Jamie got pregnant that year and didn't have an abortion for that one. I don't remember that my family gatherings were filled with trauma and drama and usually involved me cooking and cleaning for the event. I don't remember that I had to live with Cindy for a month because my family life was so nuts. I don't remember that we really thought we were fat in high school (why do girls do that?) I don't remember how scared I was to have a boyfriend. I don't remember how much Lorna struggled that year (and many subsequent years). I don't remember how I didn't get to do so many things because of the consumption of my home life. I don't remember that I smoked marijuana with Jerry three times (never did anything to me). I don't remember that Jerry got my little brother high (okay, I didn't know that until later...Adam was only 11!!) I don't remember going to Gretchen's house and watching Jamie drink while she was pregnant...as her dad supplied the alcohol. I don't remember the fear when my dad found out I was with Jerry. Or the shame. I don't remember the fatigue from being up late with drama and up early for seminary...oh and going to school, too.

Perhaps it is best that we tend to streamline our memories as we get further away from them. I do not find benefit in being unrealistic or lacking accountability or in denying parts of yourself. However, I am glad that before I remember all the other things, I get to remember my dreams and my imaginings and my creations. That is the part of 16 year old Jenna I want to retain and build on.