Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Reflection Can be Liberating

Do you ever sit down and go through old photos, old letters, cards or mementos? If you have, you know all too well what reflection is and how it can pull every emotion both good and bad out of you in a split second. The enormous power of a written word, a photo, or moment in time deeply embedded forever in our minds; yet only takes one second to bring us back right where we were however many days...weeks...months even years and years ago, it's amazing... don't you think?

I am in the midst of packing for a move; the best part of moving is purging things you don't really need... but through this, I am finding things that are making me smile, laugh, and even tear up as I am brought back to moments in my life. When I began writing, truly writing... not just writing in my diary or journals which I have kept since I was 10, poetry was my thing. I kept every poem that I wrote, most of which were written when I was a love sick young girl  in 1988 hoping to meet my prince charming. I also had a love for nature... and apparently needed peace. (if you buy my book you will learn why I needed peace) It was the outlet to my confusion; my bottled up emotions, feelings of hurt and grief from losing my sister all spit into words onto paper back then, and I am so thankful I kept it all.

I am finding papers I had turned in as an English student stating my goals... dreams and hopes. I talked about best friends, loves of my life, peaceful feelings and mean people. I have not written a poem in years, (I have moved on to blogs, inspirational stories, and a memoir) but as I was re-organizing, sorting and purging papers that I have kept (I am an organized paper whore) I came across my old folder of poetry and began to read. Some were typed on an old fashioned typewriter and many were hand written depicting the stages of my penmanship which was kind of cool to see. From big bubbly cursive to capitalized print so neat that you would swear that I had typed it. It was a trip down memory lane, and I must say... I was quite impressed with some of them, and could not believe I wrote some others! (ha) What a sappy girl I was back then,  maybe I should have been a love-song writer! (Adele and her break ups could not compare to my sad sappy lonely self!)

My whole point is to reflect once in a while... look at old things, smile...laugh...cry and celebrate how you have grown as an individual, a partner, a mom, a friend. It's cool, it's important, and quite honestly it tells you a lot about who you truly are as a person and who you "became" in a "moment." If you reflect and realize that you have not at all changed, maybe it is time you start. If you reflect and see as I have that you have grown, learned and accomplished things you had set out to do, it's pretty liberating and helps you realize that once you write something down, it sticks.

Goodnight my Kool-aid drinkers. I appreciate you stopping by to listen to me babble. It really means the WORLD to me! (Please, don't ever forget that!) I will leave you with one of my old poems... I was deep, even back then!

Dream of Peaceful Feelings ©Shelley Giard 1990

The wind whispering in my ears as I walk the sandy mile; a peaceful feeling runs through me.
Total silence and isolation, time for thoughts and memories of the past and hopes for the future.
Waves crashing like thunder against petrified rock, then breaking into a mass of white fantasy.
A lonely walk so full of company; nature being my companion.
A sky full of light, sparkling like a diamond; peering into a new world light years away, yet so close I can touch it.
Cool moistness seeping through my toes, chills running up my spine; a feeling of freedom.
As the sun peeks above the end of the earth, I hear seagulls screaming. It is a new day to live to the highest expectations.
As I take another step, the scene fades into an ebony blur and my fantasy scene is gone.
My mind is boggled; where am I? Then... I awake and realize it was only a dream.
The wind whispered in my ears as I walked the sandy mile; a peaceful feeling ran through me.

The "spill" of my poetry folder with poems dating back to 1986 
A list of goals I had written in 1989 
(Sophomore year of high school)
Kind of funny to see that other than my hope for going to college for writing, 
I have accomplished all of what I had set out to do.