c62At twenty
when most young people
have such inner light they need
no tanning
I stood in the Pre-Raphaelite section
of the foreign museum
where prisms of light gathered
in tepees over head
born with an exaggerated self-consciousness
it felt as if all the disinterested
milling around staring at art
with their mouths open and crumbs from croissants
smearing their lapels
were disapproving
it wasn’t self aggrandized
I knew then as I know now
I am just one of a million million
but the glare of the crowd
was like a purse being pulled inward
gathering her fret
I’d been inspected too closely, too frequently
as a child prone to blunder and freedom
reined by yoke of adults disapprobation and neglect
now it felt like every stare
was a leach on my skin
sucking for marrow
I wondered
at the girls who posed for masters
in cold bathtubs of water
approximating Ophelia’s death throes
or imagined when they
lay quiet in their grave
mouths still stained with laudanum
life plucked by the need for art
art approximating life and not
artifice struck me then
unable like the fawn colored girl beside me
to walk with certitude
she was only a few inches taller
though her neck was more a swan than cat
she held little more potential
yet held the world by its umbilical
whilst I sought out back doors
to any exhibit of youth
it didn’t sit well on my angular shoulders to
flaunt or even preen unaware
I had never known how to un-know
the unbearable lightness of being
(last line and title from NesnesitelnΓ‘ lehkost bytΓ­ by Milan Kundera)

0 Replies to “Of being”

      1. Beneath all of the layers that were put upon us, it is amazing we can remove them and see each other’s true self, wounds, judgments, everything others inflicted are all in plain sight. And we can SEE each other for who we are in our souls and hearts and connect on that level. That is what your writing means to me

        1. I think wounded people recognize each other. Sometimes they hurt each other, sometimes they comfort each other, sometimes they defend each other. I would defend you. Every time. I feel this almost irrationally (except it’s very rational really) and so, I see us as TRIBES and so I am in your tribe. And that is where I shall stay. This does not defeat the past but it repairs the pain and the loss a little Thank you dear girl, please know every word here is from my heart to yours.

          1. Profound. I love being in your tribe. I have needed a tribe for some time. Thank you for your defense. I will imagine you with a sword next time I am feeling under attack, having my back. Your words go straight to my heart

  1. How can any young girl know ‘lightness’ in ‘being’? They are too heavily chained to consciousness, their own and other people’s. Your image of the normally constituted girl contrasted with the swan-necked Pre-Raph model is such a good analogy for that self-deprecation, the painted girl is herself a manipulated model. Where is the real flesh and blood person?

    1. Ah I love this response. I completely agree. It is harder to see the lightness of being in youth though I would say it’s a common error – and as you say they are so heavily chained to consciousness (so well said). I’m glad the self-deprecation came across well. Ah – good question such a good question! I love how you make me think you do realize you ROCK as a teacher of intuition and more.

      1. You wrote it so you know it too πŸ™‚ I was terribly self-conscious from being a teenager until quite recently. It’s hard to shake off the fear of not meeting expectations, even if they are the expectations of somebody completely insignificant.

  2. So beautiful in terms of image, space and time! ” …I sought out the back doors” is also wonderfully descriptive and then a bit further ” to un-know ” and how that pulls this all together, at least for me. Thank you do much for sharing your wonderful gifts! My heart is touched and my spirit wanders.

    1. Thank you dearest one, I appreciate you. It is hard to undo yourself, to wish for the back door and yet … not such a bad thing in terms of needing that release right?

    1. I try! Thank you. It means a lot you should ever think that though I expect few are genius but may have ‘good moments’ as I’m sure I write some really good duds sometimes! Would you email me I would really like to send you a book and need your home addy my email is candicelouisa@rocketmail.com thank you! (Don’t say no, it would be my pleasure and my delight to)

  3. Wham bam goes the last two lines! How many of us do you suppose new knew how to un-know that as wel!. This is fabulous “dahling!” Preen those delightful feathers and show the stuff of which you are made!!! Je t’aime, Natalie πŸ™‚ <3

  4. Ah, one of your bests.. truly beautiful. I love captured scenes in a moment as you described…I have been there….felt apart… taking in something different…appreciating a different aspect of life of the event transpiring versus the person standing right next to me…. or on occasion even found someone to share the same feeling with … which always give your being a lightness when juxtaposed next to someone of the same frequency of nature…. you feel a resonance with them…its a good feeling …better than good sex sometimes …. sometimes πŸ™‚

    1. Thank you. I would argue that ‘good sex’ is not so good, because sex is sex, making love is love. Giving your being is definitely higher than sex, it is love.

  5. Dearest Candice, this piece has pushed all the buttons. Outstanding, you’ve collected all the shards from a broken mirror and turned the pile of silver and green glass into a beautiful and graceful lament. “I’d been inspected too closely, too frequently”, speaks volumes. ~ Mia xo

    1. I’m so glad you felt this piece. On the other hand if you have experienced it, I would wish that on nobody ever. But many do and it is part of them and the broken shards as you say, and so, I felt it for that reason and to explain why people are the way they are. Thank you dear one – I like your description of a lament that’s a favorite word of mine. Big hug to my favorite xo

  6. Hey sis, sorry for arriving late. I feel a little better now from my stomach.
    I’m drinking Powerade to get my electrolytes going. It was awful yesterday.
    Anyway, this poem of yours I felt exactly what you are feeling.
    You speak to us all…of knowing how uncomfortable we all feel in our skin.
    Truly, your best work and I love it. πŸ™‚

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