My pain led me – no dragged me – along a path I dared not go but needed to venture. “I’m fine”, I said, trying to shake the pain loose. With a shake of her head Pain continued dragging my resistance to a destination unknown to me.
Adjusting my dress and fixing a smile I spoke firmly – “I’m fine. Release me.” Again Pain shook her head and continued pulling me over sharp-edged terrain up a cliff face on the side of a mountain. My fear of heights spoke then, screaming, “Wait! Where are you taking us?”
Silently Pain continued on, now her light hold turned into a firm grasp – no longer gentle. Rough, angry yanks to keep me moving cause me to stumble over my steps. My thoughts are disjointed, memories colliding, unlocking more pain and ripping open more wounds.
Falling on my hands and knees I yell, “I’M FINE!!!”, trying to force Pain to release me.
Pain spun on her heel so quick that she was a breath away from my face and spoke:
YOU. ARE. NOT. FINE.
That is why I am here. You are consumed by hurt even though you love – your pain is too great so I am here to carry it and you until you let go releasing us all.
Pain stepped back and before me lay the bluest sky I had ever seen. I realized at that moment the weight of what she said. So I screamed. All of the hurt from all of the years of believing I wasn’t enough rushed to the surface in a blood curdling holler. Dropping to my knees, I felt weak and hollowed out.
Tears blurred my vision and streaked my face as Pain knelt beside me, “Good girl”, she said as she kissed my forehead in a motherly fashion, “Rest now. My job is done.”
When I started this blog many years ago I had this idea that to engage people I had to make my blog like everyone else’s. Scheduled posts with updated pop-culture tidbits and such.
I admit, that was like sitting down and doing calculus. I hate calculus. It’s theoretical math. And reading back over some of my older posts I can feel the resistance in my writing.
My old blog over in bloggerland (Poetically Wyld) was full of me, raw emotion and poetic sensibilities, while figuring out this thing called life. This figuring out part sucks. It’s like driving to a new part of town and the GPS is broken. Yet, more adventures and more interesting experiences are had by not knowing where you are going even as scary as being lost is.
So, I’ve decided that I am returning to my old blogger ways. You’ll be getting more – well, Me. More relaxed and unfiltered stories and I hope you enjoy them. I am beginning the close of my 30s and preparing to enter my 40s and I don’t want to drag any old, unproductive energy into my new decade with me.
I’ve spent the last two decades trying to get this whole love thing down and so far I have been very unlucky. I’m not happy about it but I’m not dead yet either so that’s a win. It’s been suggested I try Match.com but I’m a skeptic at this point. So if you have any suggestions for meeting new people I am open to listen. Until next time…
My daughter graduated from kindergarten two days ago. I am a proud momma. It’s taken me two days to re-contain my emotions before I could write about it.
She’s my only daughter and the reality that she’s not a baby anymore is not lost on me. I look in her face and I see her infant face but I also see a younger version of myself.
She’s courageous and open-minded, curious about the world she lives in and (in a few ways) more bold than I ever was in speaking up and out about what’s going on around her. I don’t want to smother her or block her from exploring her own potential. The only way to grow into that is for me to explore my own potential more fully so as not to stifle hers. She is me 2.0. The upgrade. She’s in beta mode and I want to ensure she has every opportunity accessible to her.
So, I have quite a few emotional adjustments to make to myself. Recognizing the maturity in her (it’s a battle sometimes when my Aquarius clash with her Leo) is hard because I don’t want her to grow up too fast. *grabs tissue* She just left preschool last year and now she’s a first grader. Sigh…
I am still working on finding my rhythm here in WordPress land. I looked up my original blog, Poetically Wyld, and realized how laid back and carefree it was to maintain that writing rhythm. I wasn’t concerned about tags and SEO or anything. I just wanted to write and share.
That’s where I am attempting to return to with Why Yet’s Words. A place where I can write and share. Words are powerful things, crafters of energy, encapsulating emotions that are sometimes indescribable and I love the feelings they elicit.
Those feelings come to me in free form poetry and the fluidity of those feelings is pure emotion. Like that warm breeze blowing across your face as you stare out at the water.
That rhythm tempted me and I answered when I penned my new poetry collection, Reflections: Past, Present, Future which is available for pre-order here.
The poems I selected for Reflections are a part of my rhythm, a part of finding my rhythm and by sharing I hope to help someone else find their rhythm.
The first day of spring is the world’s New Year’s day. Spring is a time of rebirth and new beginnings and for me I am fully embracing that. I am fully embracing me.
The journey to discovering who I am and what my passions are has been interesting thus far. I have met so many amazing individuals, myself included. Before I began paying close attention to this journey, I was a stranger to myself. Working, raising a family, doing everything I was programmed to do. But I was unhappy. I was unfulfilled and I was very unsatisfied. Nothing is more dangerous than an unsatisfied woman.
So far on this journey, I have discovered (and accepted) the fact that I am an emotional individual. My emotions fuel the poetry I write. Emotion is passion. How I display that passion is a story in itself. Many have asked me about the poems I chose to include in my collection, Entangled Hearts.
Each poem spoke a message I wanted to share with you, my readers. We have all experienced love in some form. Good, bad or indifferent, love has left an imprint on each of us. But some imprints left a residue that made me feel alone and isolated, so I wrote about it to reach out to others who may have or yet to have experienced the same.
Entangled Hearts is a collective love letter to myself, to past loves, to future loves and to lovers in general. Sometimes love hurts but other times it doesn’t and that is what entangles all of our hearts…
As National Women’s History Month winds down and the fervor of National Poetry Month begins I can only but reflect on how I fit in at this point of my life. I am a woman. I am a poet. My passion lies in sharing, educating and helping in any way I can.
In reflecting on my own past I realize I can only help others insofar as I have helped myself. That is where my experience and education springs from. Learning from my own past mistakes and then sharing those lessons.
Lesson 1. Speak up. Anything you want to learn you must first be brave enough to speak up. “How do you (insert topic here)?” The worst anyone can say is I don’t know. Your next move is to google it or head to your local library. As a poet, sometimes I am afraid to ask questions because I don’t like hearing no. No hasn’t killed me yet so I continuously push against my fear. I don’t always win, but I don’t stop either.
Lesson 2. Yes. You. Can. Whatever it is you strive to do, you can do. No explanations.
Lesson 3. Ask. For help, for reviews, for sales. Closed mouths don’t get fed. On that note, I am in need of honest feedback on my collection of poetry, Entangled Hearts. In exchange for said feedback I will be giving away free kindle copies of Entangled Hearts to the first ten people to comment below with their email addresses.
Last but not least…
Lesson 4. Inform. Let others know how they can be of service to you so you can be of better service to others! I am preparing to release my second collection of poetry, Reflections: Past, Present, Future and I need a few beta readers as well. Leave your name and email address below with beta next to it so I’ll know you’re interested in being a beta reader. Thanks in advance!
Hi! My name is Yolanda Keen and I am five years old. I love to sing and play with my dolls. I have a younger brother named Calvin and he cries, a lot! He is three years old. He still acts like a baby sometimes. I don’t because I am a big girl and I can do big girl things like read books and tie my shoes. My mom taught me to do all of the big girl stuff the same as Pinky Dinky Doo.
My mom takes good care of me and my brother. My dad does too but he doesn’t take care of us the way mom does. She makes us grilled cheese sandwiches and colors with us sometimes. She yells a lot, when Calvin and I fight but she hugs us too, especially when we play nice together. She makes us eat our vegetables (yuck!), brush our teeth and read lots of books!
I didn’t like reading at first. I used to cry like Calvin when my mom would make me read, but she would always say that we must read. As a little girl, her grandmother wasn’t allowed to read because her skin was a different color than the people who owned all of the books. I’m not sure what that means but it made mom sad. She told me and Calvin to always respect the ability to read books because now we can learn about anything we want to know.
Now in school I am the best reader in my class. I finished the 100-book challenge and mom still makes me read every day. Now I have read almost 170 books and school isn’t out yet! Ms. Joy, the librarian at my neighborhood library, gave me entry forms for a reading contest so I can win movie tickets for Sherlock Gnomes. I really want to win so I can go to the movies with my friends! While reading I found new books like Mobi Shinobi, Pete the Cat, and Penny and Her Marble. Now, I am a reading machine!
I still like when mom reads to me before bed. She makes the funniest voices and scrunched her face when the bad guys do something bad. My all-time favorite is when she reads The Gruffalo. “Oh help! Oh no, it’s the GRUFFALO!” I gotta go, it’s my snack time! See ya later, alligator! Yolanda giggled as she walked to the kitchen for her afternoon snack.