I probably should remember who gave me the jewelry box that features so prominently in my childhood memory of times I would go find solace in my room and just wind the box and watch the ballerina dance. I think I should find something similar as an adult, something I can wind up and it spins out and plays me soothing music. It can be the next fidget spinner, only peaceful.
Photo credit: Luiz Jorge-Artista on Pixabay
Because some days, you need a light and fluffy poem about light and fluffy things.
Photo credit from Pixabay: Pexels
Yesterday, I got swept up into schoolwork and did not post my poem for the day that I had written on my way home on the bus. I resolved to post two poems for you today. So here are the poems for 1/28/2020 and 1/29/2020.
I often think about my future-self at my current organization and try to be cognizant of the lessons I'm absorbing now that will serve me well down the road. Here's one I've gathered and would like to share with you.
Photo credit: Mohamed Hassan on Pixabay
The earliest farm cat I can remember considering my own was Pumpkin. He really was such a sweety and so pitiful looking. He didn't live a long life and I like to hope I helped him live a good one.
I've been a certified facilitator for Franklin Covey's Speed of Trust Foundations and one thing I love about that class is how it breaks down what really makes a trust relationship with yourself and others. I've been thinking about trust a lot lately since I've taken on so many commitments and I want to be sure I plan accordingly to keep my trusting relationships. Here's my poem from reflecting on trust.
Just thinking about the internet. I wonder if someone tried to understand this poem 100 years ago, would they give up?
I really love the yoga concept of "aparigraha" or non-grasping. I think of all the things I'm grasping right now and where can I let go my grip just a little. Maybe not release completely, just make it so the pain of holding on so tightly lessens.
Image credit: CM Dasilva
Brrrr. It's cold today and the wind is punishing. It brings back memories of fixing things in the cold with my Dad.
I love tadasana, mountain pose. Samasthiti is the call to action that says "equal standing pose" that brings you to tadasana. I love the feeling of falling rightly into this posture. I tried to capture that "falling rightly" in today's poem.
Do you ever get flashes of recognition, fleeting moments of deep certainty, that you had spent a previous life at a place and time that you could recall? My whimsical mind likes to think that's the case, that I'm remembering moments that I've lived. My logical brain tells me it's because I can imagine it, from reading about it, watching something, talking with someone. I guess we'll never know.
image credit: Money for Coffee
I had a long car ride by myself today and I thought about my name. I really love my name. My parents had it and another name picked out and they asked my Grandpa his opinion and he picked Amy. I also really enjoy meeting and working with other people named Amy. The name Amy means "beloved" and I've often felt it to be a self-fulling prophecy. I do feel loved. Which made me wonder if all the other Amys of the world feel loved. And so, I wrote a fantastical origin story poem to match that dream.
I had my first lecture of my second MBA course tonight. My brain is so full. It's all good knowledge to have and it gave me a headache. So, here's my poem about a learning headache.
It's the first week of my MBA program and I'm really enjoying my Writing in the Workplace course so far. The professor has stimulated lots of conversation and thinking about communication so it's on my mind. Here's an acrostic poem on the word "communicate".
This poem is inspired by a text my dad wrote that my mom shared along with a reminder to see the beauty of the world that's always around us. Dad, your text was your poem. Here's my take on chickadees.
I've had a jam-packed weekend of socializing. I have been buzzing from back-to-back work parties, Oprah's Vision Tour, and a fabulous one-year old's birthday party. All of the moments of connection serve as a reminder that talking to each other can be a gift if we let it. To hear the experience of someone else, to be able to speak your experience and be heard. It might not seem that that's what's happening, when you're talking about a mundane happenstance between wiping up a little one's drool, or walking through corridors to find a restroom. It's happening though. The magic, the connection. When we don't bottle ourselves up, when we feel worthy enough to be forthright in what we are thinking or feeling. Those are the moments we are the most alive.
It was a high energy day. Wow. 100% inspiration recharged. My sister-in-law generously gifted me a ticket (and bought herself one too!) so we could go to Oprah's Vision 2020 Tour in St. Paul today. It was just as magical as you would expect. She's charismatic, mesmerizing, captivating, motivating, and just plain interesting to listen to. So much of her message resonated with books and things I learned from my teachers in my yoga teacher training. Often, I found myself nodding at her bits of knowledge she wished to impart, hearing it align with Inner Engineering by Sadhguru. I've been home now and relaxing, ruminating on what I heard today and decided to capture my experience as a haiku. It's a non-traditional, syllable haiku only (missing the opposite ideas, nature, and the pop!). I also thought up a non-poem. I think "to oprah" could one day be a verb. I would define it like this:
To Oprah: verb, to energize with vital force
Used in a sentence-
She oprahed us with her mad charisma so we went out and changed the world.
I spent a large part of my day cultivating culture at Top Golf in Brooklyn Park, MN. It was great. A wise person I met once told me that culture happens to companies whether they want it or not and if they want a culture that actually helps them accomplish what they want, they better be intentional about it. When organizations dedicate time and energy into offering an event to staff that is paid for and designed to not be related to anything they typically do, that can create a really healthy environment to create culture. Jokes are shared, assumptions are set aside, friendships are built. Today's poem is about creating culture.
I'll be sharing two poems today. They are both on the same subject that I feel strongly about: gender norms and values are culturally constructed and the sooner we stop applying assumptions to each other, the better off we'll be. I grew up on family-owned and run dairy farm in central Wisconsin and my parents had five daughters and no sons. "No sons!," people would parrot in dismay. That's right, no sons, and the work got done, and the cows were healthy, and the farm flourished. No sons.
And here is the second poem, some variation from the first. I get different feelings from both.
Today my poem is about a goat. It's about a very precious and unique goat that we had for only a few years on the farm. He served no purpose other than being a pet. It was pointed out to me at work that it was a miss not to use the "GOAT" acronym (Greatest of All Time) in my poem. So I'll use it here. I hope this is the GOAT poem about a goat.
I spent a large part of my day sitting at the side of an IT person as they "fixed" some issues with my technology. I was thankfully able to work on things at the same time. I thought about how "fixers" are so important. People willing to pull up their sleeves and stick on an issue until it's solved. In my work today, that means casting magic spells in software and applications, on the farm, it was spinning a wrench or wielding a hammer. So here's my poem today, a farm-kid poem, about fixing things around the farm with my dad.
I'm stressing about my prerequisite so I took it easy on myself with the poem today. I thought about one of my favorite yoga poses, crow pose, a.k.a. bakasana, and I set my fingers free on the keyboard.
Creative enthusiast, gregarious naturalist, opinionated humanist, MBA, RYT 200. Amy Kay Czechowicz completed a poetry challenge for 2018, 2020, and half of 2023 by posting an original poem daily to this blog. She teaches yin and vinyasa weekly at Green Lotus Yoga in Lakeville, Minnesota and chimes in here from time to time with musings and rhymes.