A pile of paper falls off the desk like bubbles floating to the surface.
I dive low, picking them up with calloused hands and frayed patience.
Notifications chime a brief warning before emails pop, pop, pop, pop, like a never-ending stream of consciousness from an unchained mind.
Lights hum overhead; a swarm of fluorescent insects.
My back creaks against the chair. It’s an unwelcome visitor in an inhospitable environment.
Stagnant air makes me gasp for breath.
It’s only 9 AM.
I woke up today and realized that I will never be a 40 under 40.
By 25 I was knee deep in diapers, raising three kids under three.
My ex, by the way, was living with another woman, having left me to lead the fun and fancy free life of a 20 something male who realized at an early age that he can make his own way off the emotional and physical labor of women he’s discarded.
By 30 I was going back to school to finish an undergraduate degree I’d started at 18.
By 35 I was in grad school where the rest of my cohorts were a decade younger, and none with children. That’s where I was told I couldn’t use commas.
By 37 I had two degrees. I also obtained my first job that broke the poverty barrier.
Now, I’m 41 and I’ve just begun to create a retirement account. My kids are grown or almost grown.
I wanted to be a writer, an author of books that will remain after my death, but increasingly time slips away from me.
I wanted to be a professor, a reader, an academic whose job was to think. But my ex stole that from me.
I have achieved so much. I understand this.
But I will never be a 40 under 40. And that is a hard pill for the dreamer within me to swallow.
Although.
I can’t swallow pills anyway (true story).
So I guess there’s still time for dreaming.
Empty checkboxes
And a mind that’s zig zagging
Still manage to impress
From the outside in
Yet I have never mastered
Impressing myself
A simple reminder:
Toxic relationships are
Not just reserved
For lovers
They can be an entity, a corporation
A job
Even a Vice
Before you leave it’s like
Sucking all air through a straw
Colors are muted, and gray
But once you’re free…
The world is as bright as a birthday cake
And equally exciting.
With clarity and ease
I watched you speed through your work.
Learning is what drove you. Impatient, yes
Lovable too. Independent yet kind.
And with such a sweet tooth.
Radiant and all human. Bright and naive.
Death won’t take what you were to us.
To grow is to change
That’s the advice most given
Which of course implies
That change is progress
But often, that’s not the case
Change is simply change
It’s not attached to morals
And while it can be progressive
It’s doesn’t always mark progress
In fact sometimes
It marks steps backwards
Instead of forward
But again, not always
Because change is simply that:
change
It’s attached to nothing
But we change
So we can breathe.
It’s a strange thing
To share your kids with others
But…that’s what divorce is
Two people now split
Learning to share their beloveds
It’s not an easy thing
Blended families are hard
I’ve had to share with two women
(But that’s another story)
And…it’s a strange thing
Also a great one, and I’ll tell you why
Sometimes we’re selfish
We think sharing love means diluting love
Of course it doesn’t
And isn’t it amazing
When so many people want the same thing?
To love
And be loved
By children?
The typing of keys
The rustling of paper notes
Soft murmured questions
Intensity’s high
When students are writing
Snow brings the trouble
The kids smell change in the air
Their noses upturned
Minds whirring with plots
It begins innocently
A white rush of air
A splash of cold snow
Suddenly, it’s a frenzy
Mounds crisscross the yard
Showering the kids
All with red noses and smiles
Hands cold and frozen
Rejoicing in the weather
Until the adults swarm in
To end the melee
Please, make no mistake
New laws that attack our schools
Are not “for the parents.
That’s propaganda
Parents are often
Invited into the class
Lessons are often
Already online.
No. These laws show lawmakers
Who they can target
Thinly veiled attempts
To root out the teachers who
Teach real history
Because you see friends…
Education is power
Education is change
Education is discussion
Education is critical thinking.
Being educated
Shouldn’t be easy.
Education is a reckoning
And that should feel uncomfortable.
Hipstory 