Showing posts with label New Year's resolutions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New Year's resolutions. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

I Will Exercise Every Day

I will exericse my right
to feel human,
to be C__
and not Ms. G___.

I will exercise my ability
to move;
I will move my body, yes,
and I will move the
minds of my students,
hearts of my readers.

I will exercise my freedom
to sleep,
to sleep thoroughly and deeply
and, on weekends, long.

I will exercise the freedom
of speech,
my right to opine and whine,
to declare offense
and common sense.

(Didn't you resolve to swear less?"
a colleague asks.
No, I will exercise my right
not to make certain resolutions,
my freedom to retain
certain vices and
focus on others.
Therefore, I will
exercise my ability,
however unwise,
to say "f*ck.")

I will exercise my attitude,
give the old bitch a workout;
and I will exercise
my muscles of humility.
I will exercise the
ironic beauty of paradox.

Yes, in this new year,
I will exercise every day.

Thursday, January 3, 2008

Mindful

This is how I want to live. Many other bloggers I regularly read are talking about resolutions and intentions and goals. I have them, too -- many of them, some of which I've even written down. But thematically speaking, I want to be mindful, I want to be intentional, I want to be balanced, I want to be obedient to the various callings to which I've committed.

Mindful
by Mary Oliver




Every day
I see or I hear
something
that more or less




kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle




in the haystack
of light.
It is what I was born for–
to look, to listen,




to lose myself
inside this soft world–
to instruct myself
over and over




in joy,
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking
about the exceptional,




the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant–
but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab,




the daily presentations.
Oh, good scholar,
I say to myself,
how can you help




but grow wise
with such teachings
as these–
the untrimmable light




of the world,
the ocean’s shine,
the prayers that are made
out of grass?