Author Archives: Sarah

Laundry Cycles

“After enlightenment, laundry.”

I love this proverb. It means several things to me:

  • No matter how much you try to think your way around it, the material world exists and must be dealt with.
  • When you attain enlightenment, you are finally capable of handling reality.
  • After you attain enlightenment, you’ll inevitably get brought back down again to square one.  Everything cycles. Laundry cycles. Heh.

I have a poem about cycles. I’ve referenced this concept before in other poems. Let me dig it up and see if it’s still any good.

…Hm. It’s not perfect but it has its moments. I’ll post it anyway. Maybe I’ll rewrite it one day when I’m not half asleep.

 

Death is like a birth

The quiet room

The person in pain

The inevitability

The climax

And the uselessness of those standing beside the bed

Their helplessness and inability

All you can do

Is hold the hand of the dying

And wish them speed

And wish them peace

And do the best you can

To make them comfortable.

 

The breathing labors

The breathing hitches

A moment of silence

And then someone cries.

 

Death is a birth

Out of the dead

Springs new life

First the microbial and bacterial

Then the insects and things without spines

Then perhaps a mammal will take choice bits

And a bird scavenges what’s left

Only bones and ligaments remain

A mammal breaks into the marrow

Insects and spineless things clean up the ligaments

Bacteria and microbes break down the bone

And we rejoin the earth

To become once again a plant, an herbivore, a carnivore, a human, a plant.

Everything in cycles

Cycles within cycles

Death within birth

Birth within death

Life in cycles

Crescendoes, abatements

Everything has been done

Nothing is ever finished

Everything corkscrews

DNA

Planets

Everything

And we are so dizzy with it

As we die,

Birth,

Die,

Birth

 

Of course this has been noticed before

The wheel of time

The Mayan calendar

The Golden Spiral

And it will be discovered anew

By the next generation

Forgotten

Discovered

Forgotten

Discovered

Ham.

Okay, smoking food is the best thing ever. You play with fire, then you sit in the shade and drink lemonade and read a book for hours, with occasional breaks to play with the fire again. When you’re done, you have a beautiful meal.

I did not know this. I’ve only ever smoked a few things before, all of them small. But today I am smoking a ham.

Ham. This usually doesn’t sound good but one I’ve wet cured and smoked myself? Oh mama, it’s gonna be good. It takes hours.

My lemonade is all gone. The flies are landing on me. I’ve forgotten how to blink.

Haaaaam.

 

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A Little Sad

When I promised honesty, that wasn’t so much for you as it was a promise to myself. Every single thing I post is a little bit scary to put out there, whether it’s silly, or straightforward, or sad. I’m not sure why I’m being so strict with myself. Well, yes I do. I know that it’s good for me, and I know that writing is missing something when it is written by a person who won’t let you see past their walls. Posting about being sad is the hardest though. Vulnerability… Just the word makes me cringe. It’s so gooey sounding.

 

It’s easy to write a poem

When you feel something.

When passion rises

Words are cheap.

But when you’re sad

Every word has to battle its way to the surface.

I have nothing to be sad about.

All my needs are met.

I have people whom I love

And who love me.

I have access to all the chocolate I can eat

And the freedom and funds to do so.

I even have the Tao; something I can believe in.

I let go of resentment and guilt.

Yet still

Still there are days

When I am sad

And I can’t

Pin down

Why.

My sister doesn’t get sad.

She told me so.

There are people like that in the world.

There are also people in shitty situations

Who have so much trouble they don’t have time to be sad.

Maybe I’m not being true to myself somehow

Maybe I’ve inherited something

Maybe the happy people are the anomalies

And to be sad is merely human.

Maybe it’s in our nature to strive for more

No matter how much we have.

Maybe I’ll go to sleep

And tomorrow morning

Everything will be rosy again

As it so often is.

For me, the morning really does bring light.

 

It’s gotten better with age.

I’ve learned coping mechanisms

I’ve learned to express myself

I’ve learned to get exercise.

All these things make a difference.

But I guess there are some things

You can’t completely rub out.

Everything leaves scars.

Personal Business Strategy

My friend Chad suggested I write a post about my business strategy. Since I do everything anybody tells me, here goes:

  • Do everything anybody tells you.
  • Develop a mission statement. Use as much vague terminology as possible to prevent locking yourself into any kind of forward development.
  • Use lots of stock photos. This really ups your online presence.
  • Turn off your brain while working to get more done. This ruins your quality output but quantity is what really matters in a capitalistic society, after all.
  • Forms, forms for everything! If a form isn’t specific enough, make another form. Place them in difficult-to-find locations on your site and demand that the proper one be submitted.
  • Prioritize. Neglect the things that can be neglected, and address the ones that are urgent. By doing this, you ensure that, by the time you address each issue, each client is equally pissed off.
  • Change tech frequently and for superficial reasons. Maintain all the old tech because there is always a singular situation in which its particular features might come in handy.
  • For the love of God, use sun protection you cursed ginger freak. Swim fully clothed. It is better to swim and sink than never to swim at all.
  • Apologize frequently if you want to survive. Everyone knows that everything is your fault. This isn’t just paranoia on your part.

Any more bullet points than this would just be ridiculous.

I don’t have an image to go along with this one, so I’ll give you an unrelated one from the archives:

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There you have it! Ten years of office experience in a nutshell. Chad, are you happy. ARE YOU HAPPY CHAD.

Incidentally, Chad has some blogs and books all his own. Allow me this plug, as he’s always been kind to me:

https://www.blogger.com/profile/08852674870506731426

He has a dark sense of humor and an extraordinary working vocabulary and some kind of potato fixation which I haven’t quite figured out yet. He taught me everything I know about poetry, which I promptly unlearned. I wish you luck if you go into the viewing gallery of this man’s mind. You’re going to need it.

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