8/30 the barrel of a gun : Brazil, day 2 (national poetry month challenge)

8/30 the barrel of a gun: Brazil, day 2

So this is what it’s like to look down the barrel of a gun
I kinda always wondered how that felt
(but not really)
They say your whole life flashes before your eyes
(but not really)
More so just what’s more important:
the contents of your bag or the contents of your life
(It’s probably not even loaded)
But really can’t afford to take that chance
“Da-me sua bolsa.”
Amazing how I understand that ever so fluently:
MasterCard
Cash
Keys
Cell phone
Lip gloss
(That cell phone is really gonna hurt)
“Não, seu telefone também…”
Did I say that out loud? Must’ve, he heard me…
Bags gone.
He’s gone.
But… I’m still here.
So this is what it feels like to look down the barrel of a gun
I’ve always kinda wondered how that felt
(But not really).

2/30 (National Poetry Month Challenge )

2/30

Poem two of thirty
Ever read an epic fail?
Just did. You’re welcome 🙂

Haiku.

So… for my second poem in the 30/30 Poetry Challenge for April – my mind just wouldn’t work. Just flat our refused. Ever have one of those days where you are just running non-stop and then when you finally have two seconds to kick off your shoes and sit, the last thing you want to do is think? Yea, that was me. Today. Right now.

But to not fail the 30/30 challenge on the second day, I had to write something. So I chose a haiku. Haiku is a form of Japanese poetry. Traditional haiku are about nature – as you can see, this was not traditional – and follows a very strict syllable structure. The first line has 5 syllables, the second 7 syllables, the last 5 syllables. They’re fun to write but can be quite challenging. Often it’s easy to say what you want using a lot of words, but harder to write so concisely.

Have you ever written one? No? Well… April is National Poetry Month. Might be a great time to give it a shot…

xoxo
La.

PS – I promise to be better tomorrow…

a Travelista (with a Fear of Flying)

image

Yes, it’s true. Secret’s out. This frequent flier of the clear blue (but oftentimes turbulent) skies has a deep-seated, text your loved ones goodbye, pray ten times before takeoff and seven more times in the air fear: flying. From DC to Brazil to California to Rome, each and every flight in my lifetime has caused me a guaranteed and certain anxiety. Early morning, late night, well planned out, or last minute – it doesn’t even matter. If I’m going up, so is my heart rate.

Even as I write this now, I’m nervously shifting in my 22A window seat (cue Eryka Badu) pondering my life and hoping that I’ve made Him proud. Cause what else do you ponder at this insane altitude watching the lights flicker on the earth below somewhere between Texas and Baltimore? I tried to go to sleep, as I almost always attempt to do before takeoff, but like so many times before – I’ve failed. So now I’m up, my Beats by Dre pumping NeoSoul into my eardrums, doing their best to drown out the turbulence and my own overactive imagination. They are failing as well.

The question, though, is why do I put myself through this anguish? I mean right now the ride is relatively smooth and I feel like I am in no immediate danger. But there have been flights where I have cried real tears and where the poor soul next to me has grabbed my hand to reassure me that we would live. (Yes, he really did – I must have looked as terrified as I was.) So why, again, do I do this to myself of my own free will every chance I get? It’s simple:

Because what I really want is on the other side of fear.

And isn’t that so often the case? Think about it. What would you do in this very moment if you weren’t afraid to do it? Where would you go? Who would you talk to? What would you say? Who would you become?

image

And I’m not referring to the healthy fear, the one that protects us and guides us to make wise decisions. That fear of being run over that keeps a lone child from crossing a busy street. That fear is helpful. That fear can save lives. But what about that other fear. That negative fear that causes us to not go for that promotion or opportunity, to not approach that person we’ve been eyeing from afar, to not say I’m sorry, or that I love you first. That kind of fear is stifling, debilitating. That’s the kind of fear that would’ve kept me from seeing the castles in Portugal, from swimming with the sting rays in the Cayman Islands. I may have never gotten the chance to freeze my tail off in Paris or scare myself silly in London’s museum of wax.  Yes I had to nervously board a plane to attain all of these experiences, but I felt the fear and then did it anyway.

What fear are you feeling at this very moment? (Mine is that the captain just announced our descent.) But what about you? Is there something you’d like to do/say/be but an unhealthy fear is getting in the way? Why not re-evaluate and then make it happen. As I wrote in a previous post, arrange and rearrange. People often say that life is too short to be unhappy. I say life is too long. Some people go 30, 40, 50+ years carrying shoulda’ woulda’ coulda’s that  tear them up inside. That’s too long. Too long to be sad. Too long to be unhappy. Too long to be afraid. My aim is to live a determined life; to set  fearless goals, and then work fiercely to attain them: spiritual, physical, and otherwise. And as I prepare to utter my next “oh Lord, please let this plane land safely cause I don’t wanna die” prayer, I sincerely urge you to do the same. (Not the prayer part, just the goals part… though prayer never hurts. But that’s for another blog post :))

xoxo,
La