Riding Light

...
Did she say to ride light?
My teacher? My mentor?

My trainer said to ride light and I did.
Relaxed my body
so the horse knew to jog slowly, softly, gently.
Press lightly with my heels,
lift his shoulders, pull in his chin and he gives.
We work together.

But what did my mentor say?
Ride light?
Ride to work light, easy, ready?
Present in the car for the 15 minutes.
Keep shoulders down
because up hints at tension
and tension in the car is too soon.
Rather I should wait for the classroom.

Ride the children light?
Teach them and mentor them.
Let them succeed, let them see.
Use my natural wisdom
to push them along.
Gently presenting learning.
Encouraging growth.
She hints:
Ride light.

Listen!
Write light, she tells me!
No more of your subterfuge.
I should write light.
That's the message.

Write and smile,
write with pride,
with humor,
write with generosity.

Write of skills.
Think of strength, built strong
by experience and work.

Write light, wife.
Write light, gardener.

Painter
Crafter
Designer
Reader
Writer
Photographer
Videographer
Birder
Homemaker
Recycler
Philosopher
Thinker
Teacher
Hostess
Present Wrapper
Knitter
Mother
Friend
Sister
Colleague

Write lightly.

Give credit.
Write lightly of my knowledge;
knowledge of Natural History
knowledge of Literature
knowledge of Art History
knowledge of Film
knowledge of
Child Development/Human Development
knowledge of
Domesticated Animals/Farm Animals/Working Animals

Capable in Mathematics
Capable in Science
Capable in History
Capable in Communication
Capable in Equitation
Capable in Self Improvement

Acceptable in Cooking
Acceptable in Collecting
Acceptable in Driving

And still learning.
Learning patience
Learning confidence
Learning acceptance
Learning assertiveness
Learning time management

Write of success:
An AA
An AS
A BA
A Blue Ribbon.
Supervisors' evaluations.

I won't be fired.
So. May I stop now?
I completed my assignment.
Is it good enough,
finally good enough?

May I now chastise my dark, heavy lagging self?
May I now default to self detesting?
My knee jerk reaction; it's cellular.
It's easier, and heaven knows,
I find comfort there.

Don't make me breathe.
Don't make me hear.
Don't see.
Don't feel.
This lightness leaves me craving isolated darkness.
There I'm asleep and safe.
May I resist your pull?

But you, dear friend!
You won't leave me to it;
rather forcing me to see these attributes of mine.
And choices, pushing me to see choices:
100 ways to get out of a room,
100 ways I am admired and loved.
Write lightly you say,
of courage, my longed for goal.

Alright!
I'll begin.
Where is that courage!

Help me begin, will you?
To step into the light in Him.
The lightness outside of me.
Away from reacting to them.
Help me leave them all be.
Cease the waiting.

Change me.
Stay by me.
Don't stop leading as I drag my feet.

Light should result, then,
tripping on the doorstep,
and starting to seep into my dark house.



...

all the talking in my head

...
I should be fired, so lowly do I work,
but evaluations say otherwise.
Raving praise drips down the page,
but too much talking twists the facts.
Too much talking presses down,
while crowning imagined failures with glory.

One step forward, seven steps back
while the pep talk fades.
I chant Our Father over and over softly sweet,
until a remembered faux pas sneaks between
Thy Kingdom Come and Thy Will be Done,
filling the pauses like water creeps,
puddle-like, over the river floor.

Between Give us Today our Daily Bread
and Forgive us our Trespasses as We Forgive,
I struggle against the crunch of my bones
wrapped in damp gauze with alum,
that will, while drying, pull taught my toes
under my arch closer to my heel
for a tiny 3" embroidered shoe.

Step on me I say.
Step on my broken foot, climb to my knee,
grab my head, your foot on my shoulder.
I'll stoop down.

Then bind tightly,
keeping appendages crunched,
keeping the will strangled,
keeping the privileges from my reach.

Awaking, I mouth,
Lead us not into Temptation,
knowing now I will not capitulate.
Whispering Deliver us from Evil,
I stop you and stand up.

"Find your own way, not on my back."
I'll kick off cloth rags and stride home.

And I won't step back
when a horse shakes his head.
I'll move into his face, his shoulder;
point my toes towards the legs.
"Move Over Horse."

Move over, I have a need to walk this way.

...