Second chances are rarely given and even more rarely taken. Why is it so hard to take the opportunity to choose another path? Is it because by doing so one admits the first choice was not the best nor the wisest nor the appropriate nor the right one? To step up and say, "that was stupid of me" indicates, acknowledges weakness when one wishes to be thought wise.

Why not choose another path, give one's self a chance to bloom and grow, find and develop new strengths, refine and perfect old skills? Because at just a pinch beyond middle age, going in a new and unknown direction can be overwhelming, terrifying. But if approached in the right frame of mind, a fresh start can be a wonderful adventure.

More later!

Reflections

In the mirror,
lookingback at me,
a mere reflection
of who I used to be.

Lean closer,
l ook deeper,
Past the tiny
wrinkles crinkling
the skin near my eyes.
Beyond the wiry strands
of silver mixed in
with the blonde,
Who is that?

Its the woman
I will be.

A woman empowered
by the thought
of independence,
A woman with an
untapped reservoir
of desires,
A woman willing to share
from a wellspring
of love,
A woman looking forward
with expectation.

Reaching back to memories
of past successes,
Drawing encouragement
from the girl who was me,
the one who with a smile
said to the world,
This is who I am!

Now, she's back,
the girl I was,
as a woman,
having survived the years,
the attempts
to keep her on another path,
in another role,
not suited to her spirit.

How freeing,
How liberating,
How downright exhilirating!
To be who I've
wanted to be
all along...

I'm walking with
attitude
into a future
I've chosen
and it feels
right.

Arriving at school earlier and earlier every day until I finally realized that for me, this is my safe place. Here my strengths have been acknowledged, encouraged, celebrated. My home, which should have been my refuge became a place where I felt myself demeaned and used, everything about me seen as a threat which needed to be subjugated beneath the demands of others.

At the school where I work, our students are encouraged to find the best within them and their successes are celebrated daily.....with smiles and hugs...sometimes a shiny smiling sticker or a brand new pencil. That spirit spills over to me and I feel my dreams blossoming.....gently coaxed into blooming. Here I can literally feel my strength, my will, my purpose, growing stronger day by day.

How many more like me?

The question which keeps circling my brain.....how many women find themselves in a situation similar to mine? I can't be the only one who after over 25 years of marriage finds herself beginning life over again because of divorce.....a divorce I chose, not one forced on me by a husband's midlife crisis. What a journey.....what an adventure it can be. Were it not for the support and encouragement of family, friends and friends like family I would be overwhelmed, overcome by all that lies ahead.
This topic definitely deserves more contemplation.

What Love Can Be

Everchanging yet constant,
encouraging, demanding,
needy, giving,
makes life worth living.

kisses, hugs,
tender caresses,
knowing smiles,
sharing wishes.

searching, knowing eyes,
hands entwined.
mingled breath,
a soul's completion marked by sighs.

love,
to be two
yet one.

Ordinary Day

No poetry at the moment....just a comment on my day so far. It is an average day.....I'm tired from a sleepless night. When my mind is on overdrive, restful sleep doesn't come...just bits and pieces of conversations, a line of a song, dialogue from a movie, decisions I need to make.....and when my day begins? I file it all away to be dealt with when my mind is clear.
Arriving at work I do not know how I will manage to keep it together....tears are near the surface.....but the cheerful greetings from children and coworkers give me strength....and I know I draw on that strength until mine is recharged.

Boxed

Empty boxes scavenged from
everywhere,
Piled randomly across
my path,
Hungrily awaiting the flotsam
and jetsam,
of an ended marriage.

Choices to make.

What goes with me into my new life?
What memories will help me grow?
Which are only souveniers
of sadness,
destined to bring that sorrow
into my future?

My choices.

Each one a step
Moving forward,
sliding back.

I choose to move forward,
not be dragged down
by memories made of lies.