86 Shame

We're all outta stock, sorry. Can I interest you in joy instead?

Welcome, and a warm first hello to the newcomers!

I’m so happy you’re here.

This week’s theme is the final card in the major arcana of the tarot: the World. It symbolizes the culmination of a journey, as well as a shift from self-hatred to self-understanding.

You can read my previous post on this subject here:

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Contents:

1. Round

2. Phrases

3. Island Time

ROUND

I’m finally allowing my body
To ripen, to grow round, to take up space:
I thought that this was permitted only
In women growing rosy little babes. 

Nobody is telling me to stop it.
Nobody is treating food like a crime.
There are no folks around who want me thin. 
I do not have to check the serving size,

Because the odds are that I should take more,
That I require nourishing calories:
Now that I hear my body’s needy roar,
The times I starved it are hard to believe. 

My swinging set of hips will set the pace
For many-decades-more of joyful days. 

PHRASES

I had to learn all the polite phrases 
With fumbling tongue, as a second language.
“I’m sorry” was one I had only read,
And not heard: hard to make my tongue engage. 

“How do I?” and “How can I help?” came late:
I heard them once I made some patient friends,
Pals with parents who gladly filled my plate,
Adults who said “You’re welcome” and meant it. 

“Please” and “Thank you” made more sense in those scenes,
In those places where I was made to feel
Like the people in charge could care for me,
Informed that all my dreams could become real. 

We learn the language that we need to know,
Then, hopefully, we get the chance to grow. 

ISLAND TIME

Long ago, I read a wise person’s words:
They instructed those who would listen well
To build an island only for those birds
Whose beaks sing comfort, peaceful days, and health.

They urged all readers to dig their moats deep,
To recruit fierce hippos and crocodiles:
Those beast-guardians, with weaponized teeth,
Whose roars can be heard down the road for miles.

Because those creatures exist, I can live
In peace, inside my tiny island home.
(Washed in quiet, a mind begins to shift,
Selects the memories it wants to own.)

I’m living, stubbornly, on island time.
The peace I’ve always wanted will be mine.