Moving On Sale...

I am moving...again...I've never stopped...for a woman who has always wanted a home...I've never found one...and I hear you...what you are saying...home is within you...and you are right...Although...my legs are tired from moving...it's my back that is killing me...weighed down...from a lifetime of carrying everything with me...until now...I'm selling it all...someone else needs to own this...all of this...I can't...anymore...

FOR SALE...several chests...oiled and cared for...holds all of your memories...dreams...and hopes...plenty of room to layer years of wishes and attempts...old loves...old likes...remembrances that others have thrown away...achievements...trophies...and photos of those you've lost...what you thought your were...what you wanted to be...what you hid from everyone...what others thought they hid from you...everything you cannot let go of...

FOR SALE...dozens of paintings...framed...dust free...all the places you wish you had been...still life portraits...living objects that are frozen...easily moved from room to room...but paralyzed in one moment in time...unable to move on...fruit that will never be tasted...trees...whose branches will never sway in the wind...romances that never really existed...and a lonely woman...standing in a field...back turned to everyone...looking on...toward a long hard road that leads no where...

FOR SALE...boxes of clothing...beautiful...ornate...fabrics...that mimic the real thing...items to squeeze...cover up...distract eyes...to create an illusion...of being put together...of youth...of age...of knowledge...of wealth...of freedom...of creativity...of status...of not growing up without...of always belonging...of never sleeping in shelters...or cars...of being worthy of love...more than enough garments to cover yourself up and draw attention away from you...

FOR SALE...furniture...furniture...furniture...large heavy objects...that you can care for more than you care for yourself...pieces to cover the blankness that scares you...ideas that you can sit on...or lay down when trouble comes...or can hold your light for you...all objects can stand for you...on the legs that are as immovable as yours have been...and drawers to stuff...with everything that is normally scattered around for others to see...

FOR SALE...canning supplies...jar upon jar that you shove your creations into...pressure them to stay...and put them on a shelf...that you stare at...

FOR SALE...curtains...drapes for every window...so you can cover all the light...shut out the world...protect yourself from everyone on the outside...you can look at the beautiful colors...and the rest of the world will see blank canvas...assuming you aren't home...

FOR SALE...shoes...so many shoes...in almost mint condition...because...although you purchased them for walking...to adorn your feet...as they carried you to wondrous places...the soles are barely scuffed...because the carpet between your bedroom and the living room...protected them from damage...the damage that might occur...if you step outside and let life happen...

There are some many other items available to store...enclose...protect...cover...distract...and the initial cost is low...but the price you pay will be much higher over time...so don't wait...my doors are open...come and get it...I don't want it anymore...any of it...not one thing...I just want to walk away with myself...every part of me...it seems that all that I am...is not as heavy as what I've used to cover it up...It's time to walk light...I only have half my life left...

So...come on down...all this week...take it all...

Moving on sale...

Sleeping Through the Storm...

I don't know if you have ever lived through a hurricane...it is a phenomenon the has to be experienced...to be truly respected...It builds strength...offshore...and appears to be just an obstacle...to those anticipating it's landing...It's winds can reach 100's of miles per hour...and lift a human off their feet...as well as trees...water...and buildings...Then just when you feel the greatest force...the eye of the storm crosses you and all is silent...no birds...no wind...no sound...bright light...peace...It is at that moment...that the fierce...backhand of the storm...reaches out and breaks everything left standing...What can withstand...the first half of the disaster...rarely is left in one piece...as the second half makes contact...

I was 21 when hurricane Hugo ravaged the Carolina coast...Living in South Carolina...where the eye of the storm crossed land...I was also in the first... of a long line of dysfunctional...abusive relationships.  I had definitely been practicing at finding individuals...who would wreck my life...taking no prisoners...but...this was different...this was a real storm...destined to level everything...leave me homeless...out of work...destitute...and isolated...No...this was not a metaphor for my life...this was tangible...

My boyfriend's family...insisted...that we stay with them...their home was safe...it looked safe...secure...It was brick...strong foundation...great expanses of space...yes...this would be a wise choice...to keep he and I in one piece...and his family would support us...protect us from this natural disaster...I would leave this in their capable hands...

As we settled in...he and I...the winds began to swirl...hurling their sarcasm...with the tree branches...and the debris of broken dreams...I looked out my window and saw the impending doom...and grew sleepy...very sleepy...My eyelids began to droop...fluttering shut...drawing me deep into the belly of his family...I was hypnotized by the screams and violence around me...lulled and rocked by the crashing and crunching...the howling and searing tears falling from the sky...soon...my eyes closed...I slept deeply...and long...just like the long naps of my childhood...

When my eyes opened...to the bright morning...and scattered wreckage...devastation...I heard...in the distance...She is an odd one...quite weird...I've never known anyone to sleep through something like this...Ah...Mom...she's an idiot...Yes...I guess you are right...It was confirmed...without my voice...that I lacked the skill...or the will...to remain awake...watchful...alert...to impending danger...and unable to protect myself...

Years...a lifetime of cruel...cruel storms...I slept through...pulled deep...into a personal coma...waking only after the wreckage laid...at my feet...I often tried to force myself awake...maintain open eyes...and yet...I still walked...as if in a dream...into the jaws of hurricanes...whipped and bruised...I would gather myself together...gently picking up the pieces that I could find...Each time...I moved on...with some tiny element of my being missing...I almost disappeared...until the day that I didn't...

I stumbled...I fell over...I crawled...I dragged myself out...away from the craziness...the violence...and I didn't trust the eye of the storm...I remained awake...I knew it would end.. but...the next time...I would head the other direction...away...to real safety...maybe...not to return to the same spot...able to admit that sometimes...it's time to leave...with dignity intact...

It's odd...now...that there was a time I could sleep for hours...for days...Those days are gone...I find that I sleep little...and do more...taking small cat naps in between tasks...They say...there is no rest for the weary...I don't believe that's true...when we are weary in spirit...that is often when we sleep the most...and should be sleeping the least...During a hurricane...it is the weakest...most complacent trees that go first...quickly...and the deeply rooted...alert ones can survive...what they can't run from...It seems to me that I've slumbered enough for two lifetimes...Maybe...it's more important that I remain awake...vigilant...and no more...

Sleeping through the storm...

If I Never had Lost...

This past year...I have been quiet...much of my time...In my blog...posts have been minimal...professionally...my voice has been muted...by others and myself...by conditions...beyond my control...I have felt stifled...gagged...suppressed...and oddly...oppressed...and so...the result...is the inability to speak...and so...I feel silent...I empowered others to speak...my students...my friends...but my voice...I allowed to be strangled...and so I lost...everything...

My childhood into adulthood was my training ground for silencing my own voice...by the request...and for the needs of others...You would think that I would have learned...to stop loving...to stop believing...but I didn't...I saw each situation as a new one...somehow different than all the others...and that now my silence would be most appropriate...and each time...I lost...everything...

Losing everything is a skill that I have developed over a lifetime...refined and perfected...to that point that I can be in the midst of losing everything...and all those around me...are completely unaware of the mass exodus of my acquisitions...physical and emotional...and as I have watched the doors fly open...once again...and a great tornado pulls seemingly everything I own away...to a great spinning core...where all becomes the splintered remnants of my...yet...greatest attempt...just as I shake hands...once again...to loss...in this most vulnerable moment...I realize the truth...loss means nothing to me...except...for the loss of the ability to love...to believe...

I believe that the day I stop believing...stop loving...I will die...I will be come one of the walking dead...an empty shell...truly alone...Others can take...and take...I can be stripped naked...strangled...muzzled...battered...but no one can take...my ability to love...to believe...I have to give that up myself...and if I did...what would be left...

Many would say...that I have experienced enough...that my willingness to risk everything...to leap...eyes wide open...into abyss...after abyss...believing that there is something for me when I land...that this is inappropriate...that I am inappropriate...and enough is enough...and my response is...who are we to say what is enough...the only way to know if something is meant to be yours...is to risk losing it...or risk having it...

Many would say...this is not for everyone...and I say...why not...is it not our gift to ourselves to try many...many things...knowing that only a precious few...will remain in our lives...the rest we will let go...or have them ripped from our fingers...and that this fierce loss is what saves us from losing ourselves...the universe protecting us...clearing the deck...for that next great thing...those faces...those lives...those moments...that life free of regret...that wisdom gained...the new beginning...again...

So...let the winds rise....let the oceans crash...let the fires burn away all that I own...let others deny me...let my back feel that I can take no more...I spread my arms wide...so that my heart is open...exposed...so that all can see my frailties...and my strengths...so that any enemy of living...can shoot arrows at my spirit...for I will not die...I will not die...until I decide...and although my dignity may be dirtied and bruised...I will love again...I will believe...and how do I know this...because...I have done this so many times...I have lived...and will continue...and I could never have done this...

If I never had lost...

I Believe in Peanut Butter Cups...

I have always been an idealist...a dreamer...a true believer...almost to my detriment...Even as I charted my course through the stormy sea of my childhood...and the uncharted waters of my adult life...I have always believed...believed...that if I believe...it...whatever it is...it would happen...and so has my life unfolded....

I teach young men and young women now...halflings...part adult...part child...and many live lives...where they find it impossible to believe...where dreams are dangerous...and so is reality...They often walk on the edge of a slippery...deep...cup...where every moment puts them in danger of sliding in...tumbling into a tiny world...with no escape...a prison...in their own minds...

I wish I was being over dramatic...I'm not...as much as I dream...I have this part of me that has emerged...all realist...it is with these eyes that I see my students...and I have been there...on that precipice...in danger of falling...sliding into nothingness...what I felt I was...nothingness...

Over the past months...two of my young women...have spoken to me about their desires...big dreams...which pained them...because they felt there was no way...no way in hell...that they would ever...and they told me...they consulted...they pleaded with their eyes...what should I do...is it wrong to ask...and I told them...keep pushing...don't stop...what steps can you take...and each time they fell...they came back...back for more...more hope...and I scooped it up and gave it to them...with my cup...the one I wield...instead of balancing on the edge of these days...

Last week...one of my gals...sat...head in hands...moist eyed and trembling lipped...it's not going to happen...I can't find a job...I'm going to be stuck here...I'll never get out...and...I put down my cup...and lifted her with all my might...my spirit trembling...my voice calm...We are going to get you a job...But no one wants me...Yes they do...they just don't know it yet...next Wednesday...they will know you...we will go together...we will find them...

And so Wednesday came...and met my weary body and soul...and my girl...leading another girl...shining eyes...hair in place...lip gloss...and mascaraed eyes...imperfect perfection...my god...was that me...many years ago...is this what believing is...and somewhere in my body...I felt it...that swelling...bursting feeling...when you know...you just know...and they drank from my cup...softly giggling...as we walked to my car...

I drove us to the first store on our list of stops...a small store...that held no more promise than any other...We took a moment...to straighten our shoulders...throw back our hair...and stare the wind...straight in the face...Hello...may I speak with a manager...I am...My name is Mickie Lewis...and I would like to introduce you...to two of my wonderful...hard working students...who are looking for summer employment...This is such perfect timing...we are in desperate need of people...and we were going to send someone to your school...to recruit...

As I watched my girls...stand straighter...speak more politely...and glow from inside out...it seemed the dingy walls fell away...and the merchandise...held so much promise...and as they shook hands with the woman...I'm so glad you came in...I so hope that I get to work with you...in my store...I saw it...it...the it...someone wants me...me...me...me

The last stop...another store...where I purchased a king size Reeses for a dollar...and sat in the car...with my two new disciples of dreaming...burgeoning believers...I offered them one...in celebration...a different cup...than the one that they had been balancing on the edge of...They stole glances at it...not used to this feeling...believing in it...that it might disappear...It's here...it's real...today happened...this cup seals the deal...once you eat this...it's part of you...you'll never look at a Reeses the same again...and I watched as they reached with trembling hands...for this sweet confection...glistening eyes...and took a bite...they believed...and so I...I believe in it...the it...and all of it's magic...and

I believe in peanut butter cups....

No...You Were Right

They say that the impression that is the most honest...the most truthful...the most lasting...happens in the first 6 seconds... not when you are listing your skills...not when you are sharing anecdotes...or dazzling with witty retorts...It all comes down to the moment you first connect...hand touches hand...or not...voice greets  voice...and eyes meet...or not...In those precious few seconds...a belief is formed...the subconscious speaks loudly and freely...and the opinion is locked in...You can  rationalize forever...but the impression has been made...like a hand sinking into quick drying cement...or the moment you realize a flower is a weed...

Your first instinct...there is a big problem here...a roadblock...an impassable impasse...Pause...No...I'm just creating a problem...you say to yourself...The eyes shift...not quite meeting your gaze...then shift back...They smile...a seed has been planted...

You overcome the moment...with sunny disposition...and water it with generosity and hopefulness...and so the seed splits...and the first sprout appears...Delicate and tender...you see this as growth...the beginnings of something new...sure to blossom into the most wondrous flower...vibrant and swaying in the beams of your positive thoughts...but then...for a moment...weren't you positive that this would not work...ah well...it was only six seconds...no time to weed through your thoughts...Maybe...you were wrong...

The clock ticks...and the relationship is in its first days...the tiny leaves are breaking away from the stem of your first encounter...Surely...this will be the most beautiful bud...possibly an azalea...oohh...maybe a rose...and so your hopes rise...You are lifted to unimaginable heights...as you imagine the future growth...The higher this potential floral explosion reaches...the hazier the remembrance of your first thoughts...a bit like the haze that drifted across their face...when you first reached for their hand...and they leaned away from you...But...now...that you are thinking more clearly...you can see that they were just being respectful...How could you be so wrong?

The roots appear to be setting...as you feel that you are finally planted firmly...on your own two feet...How wonderful this is that you have matured...grown...and that you see things...as they truly are...except for that little...sharp...spiny...or is it a thorn...coming out the side...or sticking in yours...But...you know...there is always bad with good...a bit of uncomfortability?...Is that a word?...well...maybe you will use it...surely ...it should be...you're all about conforming to...you mean confronting the new...keep your head about you...or you'll lose this...by being wrong...

A few weeks later...or a month...a pod develops...odd looking...angry...no...ugly...no...that's unfair...you're not giving it a chance...it just needs time...time heals all wounds...like that scratch that you received from...that thing on the stem...that pierced you...you bleed...but only for a moment...there were a couple of minor gouges...but nothing...you know...serious...You...must have misunderstood...it wasn't it's fault...you weren't paying attention...you needed to be more considerate...yes...you were in the wrong...

One day...that pod...rears it's head...cracking open...pushing...curling back...to expose...something you can't describe...you've lost your words...you can't put your finger on it...literally...or is that figuratively...maybe both...But...you are so invested in this...this thing...this no named neediness...this over arching aching...maybe from the sore...no...it's from the heart...you're pretty sure...it must be love...or it will be eventually...and this growing entity...will absolutely...thank you...thank you for all the time...the moisture you've teared over it...the efforts...the hours...and the clouded hope...you have given...surely...about this...you can't be wrong...

Because...the blossom you felt you flowered...now burns your eyes...keeps you up at night...sleepless...blowing your nose...tearing up...raw skin...swollen...and keeps you from breathing...No matter how hard you try...to believe...something would change...after those first six seconds...it didn't...you did...you trusted the untrustable...instead of trusting your instincts...A weed is just a weed...it's always a weed...and you know it...you cannot make it a flower...your lavishing love doesn't have that power...about this...one can never be wrong...

So...when you whacked it down...and everyone shook their heads...saying...how could you do that...maybe it would have been beautiful...yes...it felt uncomfortable...yes...you are allowed to wonder...yes...you may appear ruthless...But...when you sleep the night through...finally...know...don't question...in the beginning...

No...you were right

Deep in My Soul...

I haven't written for a very long time...an extended case of emotional laryngitis...I've thought things...many things...thousands of things...and been unable to verbalize them...now it's time...

If lives were a dime a dozen...then...I could say that I have had...at least...nine of them...Each one began with grasping at a brass ring...I have broken glass ceilings...I have crashed through walls...I have brought empires to their knees...and looked up at others...from stony floors...I have been a lover...a loser...a winner...a failure...an addict...an angel...a rebel...and...at times...the devil.  But, every step...every decision has been from my heart...I have felt it break...beat faster...melt...stop...skip...and fill to overflowing...yet...it is my inner self...that I worried for the most...

And so...I reached for...everything...I have tried it all...I have given up...fallen down...only to stand up again...dust myself off...and drag myself...dirty and ragged...to the finish line...just in time for the next race...alone...hoping...to find that I too...had a soul...

I've never felt that I fit...that I belonged...mostly because of the way that I was raised...but partly...because I did everything that...everyone...said couldn't be done...Even now...I am one of the oldest Teach for America corps members...in my region...I teach outside of the box...I have trouble following rules...that box my kids in...and I challenge them to fight...fight for everything...to not let others define them...including me...

So...when my students were working...on another...outside the box assignment...their beautiful faces...dark eyes...furrowed brows...writing until their pencil leads broke...I could not help...but sit in the back of the room and watch...The hushed conversations...traveled from childish...to deep questioning...They were writing about a painting of a woman...alone...adrift on water...aching heart...and white...white like me...

One of my young ladies...turned to a young man and whispered...what is she thinking?...I don't know...said another...How could you know...she's white...we're not...Another face looked up...ask Ms. Lewis...she's white...silence...Then my student...who I was sure...disliked everything about me...turned...irritated...almost angry...she doesn't know...yes she does...no she doesn't...she isn't white...silence...but she is...NO she isn't...she's black like us...silence...she sees our soul...she has our soul...nodding heads...pencils scratching...
I'm sure I cried inside...I felt my heart explode...into a million pieces...brilliant...pulsating...and beyond color...

Somewhere in the room...dimly lit...classical music playing...classic artwork...outside the box...as my beautiful face's found their voices...I found what I had been searching for my entire life...I belonged...I had crossed over...I had become something greater...in a place that I never imagined I would be asked to enter...accepted for all my imperfections...my frailties...my failings...I was not alone...I was being held...as much as I was holding...and...although my feet will travel millions of more miles...before I die...I was home...and I knew it...

...deep in my soul.

Fix and Flip...

There's a second hand Papasan chair sitting in my living room...I purchased her through Craig's List long ago...when I was a person of acquisition...a woman who filled emptiness with purchases...I dragged her around with me...moving her from place to place...never sat in her...ownership mattered most...

After "the divorce"...I decided that it was time to bring her out...put her on my porch for cozy seating...It rained...the cushion was soaked...I laid her in the sun to dry...the cushion faded...I still hadn't sat in her...I rarely sat on the porch with anyone...Maybe...if I put a throw over her...that would make her more inviting...It was...for leaves...snow...and dust...

I moved away from the house...that I had inhabited...with my ex spouse...dragging the chair with me...dust...leaves...and cobwebs...I piled my belongings...into a place...that needed fixing...just like me...the Papasan disappeared...under a pile of boxes...old clothes...stuff...the stuff my life had been made of...The faded...weather worn cushion...hung over the side...barely visible to the naked eye...and the smell of abandonment confused my cat so...that sitting next to her box...she mistook it for...well...her personal place...now everything had been dumped on it...the chair had been used for everything...but what she was designed for...

I chose to leave behind...the life that I had been living...to break away...to find myself...I had long thrown out the cushion of my chair...all that was left of her...were the empty curved bones...So...in an attempt...to give her a new start...I fixed her up...scraped the dirt off...painted her up...changed her look...if you will...and packed her into a vehicle...to bring her to a new place...still lying under the weight of what I could not leave behind...

Six months passed...all my grand schemes and dreams...of how she would look...with the cushion I would get her...of how she would be appreciated...finally...for her great uses and greater purpose...she still sat...no cushion...no comfort...uninviting...and empty...all the moving around...and draping of fabrics...left her untouched...a veritable pariah...in a place that had little to offer...one would think that her hollowness...would have been filled...just because she was the only one in the room...but it wasn't...

Only today...as I began fixing the eclectic mix of items...scattered through my not so new home...I pulled out some soft quilts...not beautiful...but comforting...gently used...loved...I flipped them over her...one to wrap...around the cold heart of her...and one folded to soften how she felt...to others...if someone were to connect with her...two pillows...freckled...older now...but still lovely...admirable...with the potential to be desired...

As I paced the room...restless...awake...I looked at her...surveying...what she had become...as compared to what she was...unsure...if she was worthy of use anymore...and then I went to her...and sat...curling my legs into her tentatively...at first...and then...completely...

She looked nothing as expected...and no passerby would assume...that she offered comfort...or purpose...but it was...in that moment that was no longer secure...that we felt the most comfort..the most comfort I have felt in years...maybe a lifetime...My cat...joined me...no longer confused...about the purpose...And...in the dimly lit room...settling into her...allowing myself to rest...she settled too...a soft creak...a shift...and we both found our home...

Funny...how real homes...need time...patience...weathering...and...when the time is right...a loving...

...fix and flip...