Felt like a stranger Looking in A window Confused by The actions Witnessed Tones detected Perceiving A cycle Of frustration Embarrassment Tears and Exhaustion Asking questions Inside my head What is wrong? Why so upset?
Felt like a stranger Looking in A window But I was not A stranger And I was not Looking in A window It was a mirror My reflection In the panes- A realization That left me Wondering Whether to take A step back Or lean in closer
Admitting feelings of anxiety and depression is not always easy. And even harder to explain. This poem is an attempt to describe that feeling of being outside myself. Knowing my actions and feelings don’t make sense, but having difficulty controlling them.
I share because someone reading may need to know they are not alone. And simply put, it helps me accept my reflection with a bit more grace and understanding. ❤️
But I know it’s true And those words? Spoken in love So, why is it Still so hard To admit? As if speaking The words Out loud Gives them power When actually The opposite is true
You’re right I’m depressed Not simply End-of-school Exhausted Though also true
Today’s remedies? Sunshine Fresh air Newly planted Flowers Only enough Planning to Ease some stress For the coming week Small steps Moving me Forward Gentle reminding Only I can take Those steps But I don’t Need to Take them Alone…and Neither do you
My brain hurts Well, actually I think it’s numb Tired body Tired heart Words are Bouncing Around In my head Aim is off Can’t seem To find Their way out Maybe for the best Probably wouldn’t Sound the same If I said them Out loud Perhaps writing Them down Would help…
Today, I… Need to rest Don’t want to listen Don’t feel like engaging
Whew! Think I feel better!
After writing this poem, I had a revelation. If I feel this way some days, so do my students. And while I can put my feelings into words, that is not always easy for children.
Ok, so maybe this wasn’t a revelation, but it was a reminder. I need to be aware of facial expressions, body language, and tone of voice-mine and my students. Tempering my actions and reactions by keeping the clues close at heart. ❤️
Nothing compares with the contagious laughter of a child. The kind that brings tears because it can’t be stopped. One of my first-grade friends recently demonstrated this phenomenon.
He is always smiling. When I see him in the hallway, in the music room, getting in the car with his mom to go home. Such a sweet boy.
Those with an honest laugh also have a sincere cry…
Today in music class, students sang a song about Thanksgiving. I then asked, What are you thankful for? Such sweet answers. My family, friends, brother, sister, grandma, and on and on. Almost all of them mentioned a family member.
This friend was no exception. He said he was thankful for his mom. I immediately pictured him running to his car every afternoon. Always wearing that big smile.
We ended class by watching and listening to a song about Thanksgiving. I wouldn’t say it is a sad song, but sweet. When the song ended, I teased the class.
You guys haven’t asked me what I’m thankful for!
What are you thankful for, Mrs. Morris?
You guys!
I followed this with a comment about their sweet smiles. And then I mentioned my one friend’s contagious smile and laugh. It was time to line up. I noticed he had a funny look on his face, eyes downcast. So, I asked what was wrong.
Tears began to flow. While the others lined up, I knelt to talk with him.
My sister died. When she was little.
Oh, honey, I am so sorry.
I told him how special it was that he remembered her in his heart.
Precious boy. I will not soon forget his laughter or his tears. ❤️
Yesterday My steps Were heavy Even the ones Taking me Where I wanted To go Precious feet Walked beside In the sunlight Of a clear Fall day Splashes Of color Painting Our paths Until the light Slipped away And heaviness Completely Draped Demanding To be named Before sleep Could come- Now morning, Fragments Remain- But I smile At the beautiful Pink sunrise
I have not written about depression lately. But honesty is my goal. And sometimes, admitting how I feel is the first step to feeling better. I love the fall colors and cooler temps. But when sunsets come earlier and cloudy days are multiplied, struggle sets in.
I am thankful for friends and family who understand and remind me it is ok.
The photowas actually taken a year ago. Matched today perfectly.
Parading around In costumes Recognizable Masks Distracting me From the struggle Taking root In my soul Feelings Can be sneaky That way Tricksters thriving On energy Expended in a Tug of War That leaves Me trying To pull the rope From both ends There will never Be a winner Only the need To let go Of the rope Even if It means Falling In the mud
I often talk about poetry being therapeutic. This poem is a perfect example. It did not provide answers to the questions on my mind. However, writing the words down provided some tension relief. It also reminded me I don’t have to have all the answers right at this moment. Maybe you can relate. ☺️
Both familiar And strange How can this be? Blonde hair Streaks of gray Blue eyes Edged with lines Same smile Pretty much My reflection Is not all I wish it was Certain changes Cause that Familiar smile To shrink Until I look Intently Beyond Temporary Revealing What resides Within Beauty And ashes Alike Evidence Of life’s Experiences Accumulated- You are More than The reflection Staring back at you
Two instances led to this reflection. The first one, a photograph. One in which I did not like the way I looked. At least, certain parts of me. The second, a comment from a student. I answered the question, What year were you born? 1967. The response-Then how in the world are you still alive?
That made me laugh. And then it made me smile. There is so much more to this life than how I look on any given day. And though I need to take better care of myself, the unseen will always be more important than the seen. So, in case you have any doubts-You are more! ❤️
A simple Solitary Seed Of doubt Sewing stitches Choking roots Once confident Threatening Downward Spiral Second-guessing Simplest decisions Sense of dread Starting In the brain Slowly shifts Stomach Tied in knots Realization Anxiety has Once again Crept in Recognizing Is step one Clipping stitches Step two Freeing roots To stretch And grow Crushing The doubt Regaining Confidence
Whether the tiniest reason or no reason at all, anxiety just shows up some days. Sharing helps. You never know who may be able to relate. Be encouraged. ❤️
Everything a chore Getting dressed Dishes, laundry Talking, smiling Each takes an Effort beyond The necessary Every day is Not this way But today… It is my reality Trusting that Giving voice To the internal Though difficult Will bring relief And if not for me Possibly another Not yet able to Express their struggle- Finding strength In good company
This poem was an attempt to give words to a recent low period. And though I am feeling better, I accept that it will not be my last. Such is this life. I share because it is so important to know we are not alone-even at our lowest. ❤
Last week a piano technician came and tuned my new piano. Even though it is a beautiful new instrument, there are several reasons it needed tuning. Being moved to a new location. Sitting in a different space, with different temperatures, on a different type of floor. All factors that affect the way it sounds.
I listened as the technician worked. She listened to such tiny details. The way she would tune one note to its octave counterpart. When I played those notes together in a chord, I didn’t notice that they were out of tune. But hearing her pick them all apart, it was obvious.
The mechanics of a piano are fascinating. My explanation to students is usually simplified. Your finger presses down the key, which causes a hammer inside the piano to strike a string producing the sound.
Watching my piano being taken apart, actually viewing the insides, gave me a new perspective. Each piece has its place and must be perfectly aligned to produce a high-quality sound. Even a new piano needs time to adjust and sometimes requires a little assistance.
One thing stood out above the rest, voicing. I asked the technician about adjusting the voicing, making it a little less bright. Basically, taking the edge off of the sound. She explained that part of that process involves the felt material on the hammers.
A needle is used to soften the felt. When done correctly, it does not damage the material. It just slightly changes the way the hammers strike the strings.
Once the piano was put back together, I sat down to play. Wow! What a difference. Not only was it in tune, but it also had a much warmer tone. The sharp edge had been softened.
This experience made me think about my life. What if I’m in a new place, with new surroundings, expectations, and people? What if my reaction is one of fear or frustration? My words may sound edgy, sharp, or out of tune.
Like the felt on those hammers, something inside me needs to be softened. An adjustment might come in the form of an honest word from a trusted friend. Yes, stings for a moment. But the sting will not last if accepted with grace. The knowledge that someone loves me that much, however, is lasting.
Hopefully, as I continue playing my piano, I will be reminded to check my own tone. And will gracefully accept any needed adjustments to keep me in-tune with my husband and children, family and friends, the world around me.
“As iron sharpens iron, so a man sharpens the countenance of his friend.” Proverbs 27:17
Schumann Arabesque Opus 18. One of my favorite piano pieces. Only the beginning theme and the conclusion. ❤
Piano Girl 