Thursday, September 19, 2013

A Bullshit Artist

written by Stephie Goldfish

          "Bullshit is a greater enemy of the truth than lies are."

                                         —Harry G. Frankfurt, American Philosopher

I wish this blog could be a continuation of my last blog, a follow-up story of where I was at just a month ago, where I spoke about getting to a new team of doctors, making progress in some of my personal goals. I wish I could say I was a little more stable than I was a month ago, that I finished the pastel portraiture I promised my poetess friend and her twin daughters.

And, it’s not like I’m telling these big fat lies, intentionally misleading everyone about what I’m doing, what I intend on doing. It’s not that I don’t know what I’m talking about. Honestly, I don’t want to come off as some protagonist bullshit artist obfuscating the truth, nor bringing about some perversion of the truth.

But, as well as my intentions have been, every single month, it’s like I’m back at zero, starting over, sometimes in a completely new environment, new city and state, different hotel or apartment. It’s as if I’m running on emergency mode all the time.

And this month, I find myself having ripped and ran back to my hometown in my home state, trying to come to some sense of it all. I’ve gone into a “loss and recovery” effort, trying to gain perspective before any more damage is done.

My sister and I have these ongoing discussions, which begin innocent and respectful of one another’s thoughts, beliefs, and worlds, but, before long, we are in a full blown argument, reached an impasse, and each of us clearly seeing matters in our own way, defending our positions, blaming each other for where we’re at today.

But my sister and I agreed, recently, we feel it’s more truthful to say I don’t have all the answers, I don’t know where else to turn, what else to say, what else to attempt that before long finds me feeling overwhelmed and detaching from my original intentions.

So, many promises are made and broken, and disappointment sets in.

I rarely say NO to people and their requests, and, in fact, I usually make a proposal first of promising something for someone, and sometimes decisions I make in a split second are what most persons would do, too, with no hesitation, they do what is needed at the time.

But I need to follow through on my YES replies, and when I do say NO, not feel guilt.

I’ve been told I have a Rescuer Archetype personality, but I need to accept my limitations, accepting my answer NO, or even NOT NOW.

Already, over the spring and summer, I’ve had shingles, bronchitis, and severe shortness of breath, more swollen lymph nodes, a respiratory/lung infection, and itchiness all over. And I began a new medicine which continues to cause acid reflux. The new medical team also recommended the Mediterranean Diet plan.

So, anyone can see where I need to focus my attention.

I wish I could know where I’ll be next month, what I’ll be doing. I wish I could know if my current situation will get stable where I can really concentrate on taking care of myself. But I don’t know. One of the steps to recovering, though, is to truly be honest with myself and accept things as they are now, just be.

And as long as I am still trying to better my circumstances, there is hope.


The edited version of this post was published over at ACHA on September 19, 2013, with the title, Promises Made, Promises Broken.

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Waiting On The Gods

written by Stephie Goldfish
Sometimes waiting is all one can do
When you’ve exhausted the gods with your cries and pleas.
And the waiting may seem in vain, until you get a clear
In the storms, you hold on to a firmly rooted tree, until the tree
Is pulled from its foundation and you along with it.
And you are carried to a strange, but familiar, place.
So, you’re left standing, all alone, again, with nothing
Else to do but to wait, waiting for the next strong wind
That will carry you away from here.
If this is how you want to spend your life, drifting
Hither and thither, then, by all means, wait for the
Winds and storms to come, for they will.
But, I say to you, the gods won’t mind if you decide
Your own path, for they know you’ve been putting it off
Too long. Trust in that part of you that will guide and lead
You through the storms. They’ll come anyway, to test you
And knock you off your feet, again.
There’s no wrong in waiting, but I’m afraid you’ll become
so paralyzed you won’t be able to move when the time
for action is required of you.
While waiting on the gods to answer, you’ve missed
all the sunrises and the sunsets.

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Mistaken Identity

by Stephie Goldfish

Don't try to find the reasons for the gross neglect,
nor the exact moment you accepted your truth.
Don't spend time defining who you are,
by confusing your life with someone else's dream.
This new life you’re searching for won’t be found
turning over the ground, as if hidden somewhere
in earthenware vessels, lost deep in the ruins
of excavated lands. Look, the error is from the beginning,
the red flag they chose to ignore. Yes, it’s been
disastrous, I know, and you are angry, but don't let
your mistaken identity cause you more uncertainty
to the transplant you’re seeking. Go inward. Open your
mind and eyes, listen to what your own heart is telling you.
This journey will lead you to where you’re bound.

Sunday, January 27, 2013

The Cotton Still Needs Picked

written by Stephie Goldfish

From generation to generation, from time indefinite to time indefinite, even forever, the cattle need raised, the crops need plowed and tilled, the hungry need fed and clothed,
 we still have our needs and desires to be met, and the production lines need filled.

Besides, the cotton still needs picked.

From generation to generation, from time indefinite to time indefinite, even forever, our hearts need mended and cultivated, our sins need forgiven, our prayers need answered, our bodies need healed and our souls need saved, and justice needs meted out.

After all, the cotton still needs picked.

The sun will keep shining and then the rain will come, again and again, but these cycles of life have no end.

Monday, January 14, 2013

Five Birds Suddenly Appear


written by Stephie Goldfish

How is it possible five little birds, all in the span of a morning, suddenly appear

one after the other, a blue bird, another a cardinal, fluttering on air

outside my window shield? How is it possible these most ethereal

of all creatures and closest to heaven came to me heralding?

Heartened by their presence, as if it were a wink from God,

my spirit began boosting with confidence, with an approval, a nod.

Their very presence reminded me that, rather than thinking of it as an omen,

the ultimate power is within this present, unseen moment.

And, sensing my desire to inhabit their skies and touch the face of God, what I heard them say to me is fly,

fly into your own natural confidence, as if you were born to lead with grace and nobility.