I pulled this photo out for an assignment from the mondo beyondo dream lab + the gifts of imperfection class*:
Your task today is to find a childhood photo of yourself and dedicate a song to the tender part of you who is making her way back to her whole heart.
For the song, I chose True Colors, by Cyndi Lauper.
Then I moved to my next task, my weekly snapshot poem. And, on revising and considering, I think this poem was written from the same place -- from me, to three-year-old me.
Snapshot 19 January 02011
You follow this arrow
in the only direction
you can go. Choose
what you will.
Love what you love.
You’ve been here before,
this day, yesterday, the next,
just around a dark corner.
Live in the world in which
you find yourself, mountains,
the sea, your own inner landscapes.
Sliding on ice, unsteady, uncertain,
no arm to hold to but your own.
This planet, this land, this water,
they roll under you, through you.
How is it the sky fades
from dark to dawn? But fade
it does, again and again. This
is your home. It is what you make it.
And again you rise into it,
unfinished, unfamiliar, strange
to yourself in wakefulness.
Brilliance in the dark, subtlety
in light, nothing is as it seems.
Speak clearly. Say to yourself:
this is mine, this is me.
*This class has much to recommend it, and much to complain of, but that's another post.