Next Oddly Poetic is 3 March!
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so much more,
I AM human, as are you:
Everyone Matters 💜 & ☕️
“The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.”
“‘Everyone Matters’ is about everybody’s value, that we all count, that we should all stand tall for who we are, as we are,” the campaign founder HealthCliff Rothman told The Huffington Post in an email. “It’s about judging each other, and ourselves less.”
An ability to see beyond the pale,
Recognizing hope in the shadows,
Trusting first and foremost in love;
Questioning allows for discovery –
An independent view of the world,
Finding wonder in unlikely nooks,
Taking refuge in discovered beauty;
Aesthetic purpose is proven worthy.
Not simply to be sought but created,
Via means personal and miraculous,
Through more than possible alone;
More than creation from only within –
Not just given but allowed in as well,
Born both of intention and request,
Granted as journey and destination;
Nothing but children can encompass.
The innate art in all that is organic,
Exists as fact as well as fulfillment,
Internal naïveté becomes a choice;
With childlike wonder thus achieved –
The need to be and have a child met,
So an inherent wisdom is imparted,
For beauty infuses all said and seen;
Thus self-doubt may stand idly by.
All hesitance is ever more in check,
Seeking truth rather than reasons,
Knowing order exists despite chaos;
Choosing inspiration over defeat –
All is perceived with a loving heart,
Becoming more complete every day,
Fostering creations formed and found;
Artistry that goes beyond the page.
She’s described me as her alter-ego and she’s my inner compass; we’ve never had it easy but we’ve always had each other. Her love is not only unconditional but unwavering, and her acceptance is as complete as it is encouraging. With bravery summoned in shared nooks, and hope conjured from their many books, it was the two of us “against the world” and we’re still at it – finding our truest selves together. Persistent artist; consistent friend; insistent creative; her inherent appreciation of artistry in all its forms keeps me inspired and forever young:
“It takes time to grow young.”
— Pablo Picasso
“She finds happiness in whatever happiness I meet, she understands what I understand and why I understand it, she prays for me even when I pray for no one but myself, she sees all the beauty I tell her I see and delights in it through my eyes. That is my mother. She would give me the whole world if she could gather it in her arms. That is why she will never have the whole world in her arms; that is why she will always have the whole of my love.” — Philippos Aristotelous
The sign outside my grandparents’ home
I was your little shadow
Before reaching equity with Momma
Or recognizing my soul in Grandma
There was you
What could’ve been treated as tagging along
Used instead as a chance for me to belong
There with you
Anything done had fun to be found within
Nothing was mundane, especially when
There were two
You were my first best friend
Tasks as games, errands became adventures
Logic as puzzles, bedtime stories offered cures
Walks as archaeology, flies were fishing lures
I was your little brown eyes
Leaving me no doubt I was exceptional
While ensuring everyone felt special
That was you
Peacemaker who took everything in stride
Supportive, and confident without pride
That is you
Finding hope with a quiet determination
Knowing letting go may be the solution
That’s me too
You were my universal constant
Being able to say “me too” when it comes to my grandparents reassures me that I’m part and parcel of their living legacy. Those two simple words keep me connected to them, and specifically remind me that Granddad loved “me too.” That deceptively simple phrase was how he responded to “I love you” when one of his girls called him at work. Although he was clearly just keeping things professional, there was a sense that he felt too deeply to risk getting personal. He warned me any time I cried that, if I continued, he’d join me. Seeing me cry was enough to make him cry, and not saying “love” at the office hinted at the real possibility his voice might crack if he let himself say it. He laid the foundation for the most important lesson Grandma taught me, that our choices also affect those who love us. My Granddad was the first father I ever knew, and the best man I could ever hope to know. He exemplified what it was to be a good man yet not by being a man’s man – veteran, engineer, and mountaineer that he was – but by being unabashedly accepting, caring, and creative. Don Dorey proved that real strength comes from within.
As a tomboy and his namesake, my connection to Granddad was strong. When talking to himself (which the best people do), he called himself Dorey and my nickname was Dori so those private dialogs always seemed to include me. We’d take on challenges together and “Get it right, Dorey” or answer the tough questions like “What’re you doing, Dorey?” Grandma was concerned I’d take it personally when he was frustrated too but I’d seen him sign his name, “GD Dorey,” often enough that it was clear who he meant when he swore to himself: “Goddamn Dorey.” Rather than teach me conceptual lessons of right and wrong, Granddad shared more relatable truths; cussing is a privilege earned with age, lying is only for Liar’s Dice, gambling is reserved for Solitaire, drinking is intended for meals or Sock It To Me Time and, like most things, is more enjoyable in moderation. With him, I learned a deeper appreciation for those around me. While Momma inspired me and Grandma reflected me, Granddad gave me a sense of place. As a Dorey, his Dori, I not only belonged but could share that feeling through the ready acceptance of others he personified. Without him, I’m disconnected from a universe he gave meaning to.
In memory of G[eorge]D[onald] Dorey, my G[od]D[amn] Granddad:
Don Dorey, you are missed and we are better for knowing you.
October 1919 – July 2014
From Pooh Corner to poetry
With courage and coffee
Thru Art for art’s sake
She inspirited me
From Upstart Crow to unity
With trust and tea parties
Thru Truth for my sake
She inscribed her love
From Camp Nelson to chaos
With freedom and fantasy
Thru Faith for our sake
She inspires me still
I’m the happy result of an unlikely event, a planned teenage pregnancy. Unhappy with her life, my mum made a bold change; she married at 16 and had me a year later. Momma hadn’t found a better life but she had realized her dream of becoming a mother and her brave pursuit of something more gave us each other, and San Francisco. From that nontraditional beginning, through impromptu poetry readings to her own artistic endeavors, she raised me first and foremost to be creative. That gift is as important to me as her unconditional love and unwavering belief in me. Creativity as an end, not just a means, has enabled me to see possibilities beyond my limitations as a spoonie. Momma not only taught me to dream but to dream creatively.
Our mums bring us into being, may guide us as we grow, support us if we’re lucky, and befriend us if we’re ridiculously lucky. I’ve been ludicrously lucky but, then again, I started life as a dream come true – what a legacy!? Momma wonderfully captures our creative journey in her response to this poem, “We’ve both been through all kinds of chaos since Camp Nelson (playing at the creek!), Winnie the Pooh curtains, & huggable Eeyores – not to mention coffee & books at the Upstart Crow – but what we found there has brought us through the tough times, lit up our memories of the good times, & added the magic!!” She’s described me as her alter-ego and she’s my inner compass; my mum and I are more than compatible, we’re complementary.
White Bird Flying is a painting by my mum, Phyllis Dorey-Thiessen
Seeking to thrive..
Nature seeks naught but need
No need to waste; waste not, want not
So much we can learn
Ideas taking seed
Using what’s needed
Sharing what’s not
I celebrated Earth Day in my own little way, as I do most holidays: the design on the tank is a tree too so that darling pin will likely stay a permanent companion. It was a free gift found at San Francisco’s annual Earth Day Festival. I also came away with far more paper flyers than makes sense for such an event. Thankfully, a lot of the paper was recycled but I’m hoping to see more information disseminated electronically in the future; sigh.