In my book of rules,
best moments were supposed to be
birthday parties and holidays,
family meals and first days of school.
The have-to’s, the should’s
Followed me around into adulthood
In my head, dragging on my shoulders
And tied around my ankles.
I never knew there was an individuation rule
To become my own person with my own
Likes and dislikes, boundaries and borders
defining my uniqueness.
I have been writing my own book of rules
Not my parents, not my teachers
Not my bosses or opiners.
My rules – my moments.
How would I know what I enjoy,
Unless I experience no joy?
How would I experience my truth,
If I hadn’t experienced untruths?
Early mornings when the birds are waking
And the sun has dawned is a best.
Late at night when I stand under the stars
I can hear the whispers of sleeping is a best.
Window open, cool air and covered is a best
Silence within and silence without is a best
Speaking truth and being heard is a best
Tasting food with a hungry stomach is a best.
Every child I have a moment with
I remind them of their uniqueness,
And it’s okay to be different and it’s
Okay to have an opinion – it’s okay.
I’m listening. I’m filling the air around
Me with the messages I want to hear
That helps me feel free and individual
And unique and special.
So many ways to define a best
And so easy to look for worst