She shows up when she wants
Much like me
You cannot force her to stay
But dismiss her
At your own peril
Freedom?

As I sit
in the cool basement
eyelids open and shut spontaneously
a black iPhone screen seems a pool worth diving into
poems show themselves in my mind
a belly breath brings endorphins
deep sighs echo from my large pup sleeping
like a dam breaking
joy stings and rushes my sinuses
overwhelmed by detail
I welcome the connection to cluttered life
the bell ends it
and I write
–April Resnick
I am Meditating by Leia Resnick
For the last week or so, I seem to have the sense that something is not right. Almost an impending feeling of something that is just about to go wrong. I find myself annoyed and quite melancholy. When I feel this way, usually I just meditate, feel it, spend a little time trying to figure out if it is a state of mind, and then I just go about my life with it. I tell myself that it will be here until it is not and that is about all I can do. But yesterday I saw a segment on an early morning talk show about “Changing your bad mood.” The basic premise was that we always have the ability to change our moods, and if we don’t…then “fake it.” Really? I am not very good at faking anything, but even if I was…is that really the answer. I heard words like selfish, arrogant, and self-centered to describe someone who does not choose to “fake it.” Are we really that fragile of a society that we cannot tolerate the normal human vacillations of mood? Must we walk around like Stepford wives, just to keep everyone comfortable? I refuse to believe that we are not capable of some compassion, EMPATHY in fact, towards others who are experiencing a mood that we ourselves must be all to familiar with. Why are we told over and over to pretend? I am not saying that I would deliberately harm someone just because I am in a bad mood, but neither would I choose to suppress it or dissociate from it. I am cranky. So what? I choose to believe that those around me actually have the ability to understand, relate, and let it be. Perhaps it is because it is easier to tell others to change (fake it) than to ask ourselves to make an adjustment (extending a bit of human empathy.) Isn’t it just much easier to judge someone else, tell ourselves we would never feel that way, and move on? Easier, perhaps…but at what cost?
So for now…I will just be melancholy. If I figure out a good reason why, perhaps I can work with it. If not, I will just be with it until it passes. That is not selfish, or arrogant, THAT is human. I am comfortable just letting myself be a human being, and feel a human emotion, for now. And I will make an attempt, when I encounter others in a bad mood, to remember feeling this way and extend a little bit of understanding their way.
Sharply slicing through layers of protection,
Crisply pungent the release,
Non-agency fills my eyes and flows down my cheeks towards the culprit.
My immune system mounts a defense,
The slug of sickness fills my left nostril,
Non-agency creeps slowly toward plain view and compels action in spite of myself.
From clenched to loosely hanging,
Glands relax their damming,
Non-agency fills the cavern of my mouth and echoes like hidden rapids as I swallow.
The witching hour arrives,
Hormones turn my insides from embers to blaze,
Non-agency spills from my body, forcing my waking and peeling of this saturated shell for a drier layer.
Pain slams into my jaw,
There is no comfort to be found within my skin,
Non-agency wells up in the corners of my eyes and threatens revealing amid professional Stoics.
What are you trying to sell me?
A grill, or a sofa, or drink
A red, white, and blue ideology
That ignores human lives on the brink
An article of faith wrapped in dogma
Tied with a star-spangled bow
A car on a lot, an appliance
That will help me feel part of the show
I sit here conflicted as one who has served
And one who has questioned it all
I do not fit in to your nice little box
That’s been purposely fashioned too small.