girl power inc.

girl power inc. things written down

May I Have a Word?

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In which the Wordling escapes through the back window.

Make me a window from sonnets that open and close to vistas of hence-forths and wither thouest.

Build me a house of words where every room is changeable by the moment and we can get lost in a pause.

Wither thou goest without me on this day, while I wait in my too too immovable mortar and bricks.

Put words in the sky that cause the birds to flutter and the birds can eat the words and sing like the ancient choirs they are.

The best bed will be made from ellipses that linger on and on while sentences unfold themselves in other places.

Enfold me in your dark embrace of unspoken promises. I will give them voice when you will not and write them down to make certain I heard (unheard) you correctly.

All our tiny wordlings have flown the nest and now no wordlings visit.

They have grown up and gone to other pages.

For others.

To ruffle.

Those words.

That once wrote me.

    WHERE HAVE I BEEN ALL MY LIFE?

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    A user’s guide to living:

    Listening for bells. (Image by Nicole Smith.)

    Someone very clever once wrote: Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans. Or, maybe it was: Life is what happens when you’re looking the other way.

    Or, it might have been: Life is what happens.

    Actually, I wrote that last part.

    It’s been a long time since I last posted a blog, a long time since I wrote about waking up alive. I kept thinking I’d get around to it. And then half a year whizzed by. In terms of living I feel as if I’ve only lived half of the first-half I had, and I wish I had twice as much left for the last half.

    I am morbidly fascinated by tales from the Victorian era, of people being falsely diagnosed as dead, so much so that many insisted upon being buried with a rope in the coffin attached to a bell above ground. In case they woke up alive. Hopefully also with brandy, a candle, and a good book to pass the time until the exhumation.

    Premature burial practices continue to this day. “I’m buried under work.” “I’m swamped.” “There’s no time.” 

    “One day, in my next life, I’ll live the life I want now.”

    It isn’t easy for the introvert. My favourite thing to do? Stay home and wonder why I never go anywhere. (Having already declined to go anywhere.)

    How do two introverts have a good time? Make elaborate plans to get together and see who can be the first to cancel at the last minute. It’s an art form. No self respecting introvert cancels plans ahead of time. The challenge is in getting down to the last few seconds before cancelling, knowing that the other person has been sitting at home in pajamas with ice cream and Netflix primed. We then immediately make elaborate plans for the next week. And so on.

    Fabulous conversation between introverts:

    Me:                         I didn’t go to the thing last night.

    Friend:            No? I didn’t go to the thing either!

    Me:                        Did you go to the thing this afternoon?

    Friend:            No, I didn’t get to that thing either! Did you?

    Me:                        No! That’s why I love you! We have so much in common!

    Friend:            Let’s make a date to not go to something together!

    Me:            I’m not sure. I’ve got a busy week coming up. So many things I’m not doing.           

    Welcome to the Summer Solstice. Alone with you together. Write like a banshee. Live like a crone. Ring that bell.

    Hello world, it’s me.

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    Her loving gaze.

     

    Hello world. It’s me. Bernardine. It’s been swell traipsing around the sun with you for another year. What a tough one, eh? Someone smarter than me wrote that no one promised life would be easy all the time. And yet we only get the one life to fiddle around with, so I have to say I’m grateful for the last 12 months of discovery. I’m not going to reflect on it too much, because it seems to me that looking back is the sure way to becoming a pillar of salt. On such a day as this, with so many birthday wishes coming my way, and so many thoughtful notes of support for my sweet Nishi, I am reminded of how precious and precarious all of this is. This tightrope called life. This spinning blob in outer space with all of us like specks of sand thinking we are the centre of the universe. Because we are! I love that you, world, celebrate my birth day with me every year without fail and put on all the fireworks and things. Not everyone is so lucky. I only hope I keep on waking up alive. I only hope I will be brave and deserving and kind on each day. I only hope none of us fall off this spinning blob and go floating away without a safety line but I also hope we can all jump into wonderful things with no safety net. I only hope that all my friends and family know how special they are and how happy I am to finally know if the jack beats the five. Or is it the other way around? Blessings on all our beloved furry friends who give so much and blessings on you, world, for keeping on.