Tuesday, February 10, 2009

After Twelve Hours With Me, She's A Poet!

My recent student, Merel Olivier, was so inspired by our crazy two days together that she pounded out a pretty poetic essay in English. Take a read and tell me what you think:

Independence Day
By Merel Olivier

When I was younger I asked myself what will I be … but the nice song of Doris Day in "The Man Who Knew Too Much" left me with a “not enough” taste in my mouth … Even though I like to sing the song, “Que Sera, Sera,” ... Destiny ... Fate ... Yeah, well ... I’ve always been more a believer in “you make your own bed.” A little problem for a day-dreamer like me … My bed’s a mess. Or, as William Ernest Henley wrote: “I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul” ... but I’m hardly keeping the boat afloat.

Paradox: that’s my middle name ... what goes with it: Procrastination. “Tomorrow”: this word should be banned from all books! Carpe Diem: Seize the day. Since 1989 I’ve been wondering how. I don’t think I’ve got the right book.

I’m not lazy, just happen to be my own motherly mom living “ostrichly.” I’m not undecided, only passionate about too many things to be able to sacrifice one idea and actually end up doing none. I’m starving for knowledge but knowing all the answers hasn’t made me the Yoda of the Jeopardy of Life.

I’ve got my wake-up call ... yeah, about that, to wake up has always been hard on me. I’m more a night person. But in this case what’s difficult is literally the next step. I get easily distracted by all the mirages shimmering on this road.

“It’s the journey that matters, not the destination” I get the concept but from time to time it would be nice to get somewhere ... ‘Cause for me every bus stop on the journey is a little destination.

But I’m in the mud, and this gooey, sticky, drowning, swallowing muck keeps me breathless. “The best is not to move,” they say ... True, true ... but I’ve mastered that and I’m still in it.

Thanks to “and they lived happily ever after,” I’ve got this delusion that I can be saved by Love … but no Prince Charming in the entourage to save me ... even then, that never worked ... It’s just me ... no magic wand on the tip of my finger either … “Use the Force,” hum ... just me, me and my brains …

Brains, nice brains ... only used for “head-storms.” ... Little neurons, I order you to redirect the impulses into my fingers, arms, toes and legs ... so we can say, “she’s alive, Alive.”

I will move at the pace of my heartbeat, following the drums that I’m enjoying fighting so much.

Still, I have to organize my thoughts and plan my actions. For instance, yesterday, thinking of just going to bed, I undressed in my room before taking my jammies from the bathroom. Of course, I have to pass in front of the bare kitchen windows first …

It’s only the beginning of the trip, learning to love to lose, that’s a leap of faith that I’m willing and able to take … without mastering “The Art of Losing” along the way.

Soon, I hope to be declaring the independence day of the United States of my heart, mind, body and soul. It’s under construction. This unblank page is witness. And, as the song goes, “The rest is still unwritten.”

‘Cause like I jumped off the Atomium, I’d like to yell everyday for the rest of my life, “YYOOOOOOOHHOOOEEEE”!

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