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Friday Philosophy: Change

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.  But when life gives you pickles, you’re screwed, because nobody likes pickleade.

The last few days have seemed to become days of reflection, at least for me.  From the appearance of the recent diary list periodically today, I was not alone.  But I don’t want to reflect on 9/11.  That has never been the way I have operated.

Meanwhile I have to eulogize my colleague who died last May at a memorial service on Tuesday.  That may seem to you to be an extremely long interim period between dying and memorial, but that’s the way stuff happens in a college.  She died between Finals Week and graduation.

Muse in the Morning

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Muse in the Morning

A Transition through Poetry XIII

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In Pairs

New Tricks
riffs on a theme

Discontinuity

Total refusal

to be who I was

balked at the concept

finally stood up

New environment

Learn to fit in

or face rejection

Is it ever enough?

There are always bigots

“Learning to fly

but I ain’t got wings”

And coming down

can smash your face

into the ground

It’s like trying

to pair up old socks

only much more serious

What portion is me

and what part pretense?

Non-vital essence

What only exists

for the sake of appearance

for convenience

for comfort, safety?

Being dead is safe

eventually

Learning is so hard

Learning how to exist

painfully harder

There is no blueprint

no textbook to consult

nor guide on this trail

I am a teacher

I must lead myself

–Robyn Serven

–January 25, 2006

◊  ◊  ◊

One of what I called my sand paintings, with a jazzed up background.

Good morning.  Be excellent to one another.

Muse in the Morning

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Muse in the Morning

A Transition through Poetry XII

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Bits and Bytes

E-spacing

There is no sound but the clickety-clack of fingers on the keyboard

There are no sights but the electronically formed letters on the screen

But there are people in my computer

Riding the crest of the technological future

And I have joined them

We have stripped ourselves down to the thoughts we express

Mind meeting mind with no distractions

The carefully chosen phrase can be undone

By the carelessly tossed word

A misplaced comma may cost a friendship

We become our vocabulary and our usage of it

Our emotions are expressed only through punctuation

Yet we bare our souls to each other

And form relationships deeper than those in the real world

Because we must always trust each other

Finland, Australia, South Africa and Canada

Maine, Virginia, New Hampshire and Kansas

Baltimore, Cleveland, San Francisco and Boston

I have trod on your virtual streets today

And visited with some of your most caring inhabitants

We embrace each other thought to thought

And love each other’s wisdom

We share our joys and pain

And support each other through our sorrows and triumphs

This is life in e-space

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–June, 1993

Muse in the Morning

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Muse in the Morning

A Transition through Poetry XI

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Tangles and Ripples

Friends

There came a time

when folks had to choose

whether they knew me or not

Most of them fled

unable to cope

or unwilling to try

The few who remained

faced questioning

of their own motives

for standing by me

New friends were made

some would deem

questionable

outsiders

the dregs to some

who recognized me

as one of their own

newly arrived

or maybe just

freshly met

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–January 19, 2006

Muse in the Morning

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Muse in the Morning

A Transition through Poetry X

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Isolation

Loneliness and Isolation

The mind–yearning, seeking, questing, emerging–female.

The body–betraying the mind–male.

Can one express what it feels like to be transsexual?

Before I was man and was treated like man.

After I will be woman.

Now I am both/neither.

Neither generally wins, excluded from both.

Is it too difficult for others to comprehend

Or is it too difficult for me to explain?

Is there anyone who will accept me as I am

Or will I only be accepted/rejected

For who I was/will be?

Loneliness and isolation nip at the edges of my being.

Certainty becomes expectation.

Expectation becomes hope.

Hopes become dreams.

The dreams dissipate into nothingness.

Another friend is gone.

New friends are made.

Life changes but why must the bridge be so tenuous?

Loneliness and isolation blur my consciousness.

Why must others always bring up the past

Which has become so foreign to me?

The events are there but the feelings are gone.

How do I describe the deeper feelings that have replaced them?

Emotions long submerged boil to the surface

And erupt full-blown into the mind

But there is no one present with whom to share them.

Loneliness and isolation crowd around my soul.

How do I explain the feeling of hormones

Coursing through my body,

Changing it to fit the mind?

How do I deal with the sexuality, the sensuality

Exploding in every nerve ending?

When there is nobody with whom to explore these sensations,

Time slows considerably.

How does one measure the growth of a breast?

With a watch, a sundial, a calendar, or with a life?

Loneliness and isolation seek to smother my existence

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–November, 1992

Metaphoria

This “essay” has few words.  It was not meant to.  In order to keep my sanity during the move last month, I created a series of graphics, based on the Star Trek episode, Darmok, concerning the first encounter between the crew of the Enterprise and the Children of Tama.

The Tamarians, it turned out, spoke by citing metaphors, metaphors unknown to the Federation.  On this basis did the story hinge.

I took a shot at interpreting the metaphors graphically.  Of course, what I see in the graphics and what you see will no doubt vary.

Be forewarned:  there are 27 graphics.  

If you wish to see a larger version of any of the pieces, simply click on it.  They were created in 800 pixels by 800 pixels.

Temba, his arms wide.

Muse in the Morning

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Muse in the Morning

A Transition through Poetry IX

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Passing through Grey

The Letter

This is just a note

to say goodbye

and warn you

and them…and me

of the drastic change

in our life paths

lying on the other side

of the passage of night

to introduce the person

you will meet tomorrow

when I return

as someone else

a plea to you

to help nurture

this fragile seed

as it germinates

and a heads up

so you can view

or maybe cause

the lighting of the fuse

that will initiate

the explosion

of our separate

and joint realities

a call to witness

the mass reactions

designed to crush

the life out of me

–Robyn Elaine Serven
–September 29, 2006

Friday Philosophy: Maybe it’s the water

Someone sent me an item last week about a transitioning transwoman (video at the link), a high school mathematics teacher in West Linn, OR.  On the face of it, this wasn’t a huge story, but it struck me as a huge coincidence.

Currently I have hardly slept for two days because every time I lay down, I have to cough.  The moving that is finally over apparently left my body in a run down state and I caught something on the first day of classes on Wednesday.  So I apologize if my current delirium causes any disjointedness.

Think of it as stream of unconsciousness.

Muse in the Morning

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Muse in the Morning

A Transition through Poetry VIII

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Painful Separation

Love

Love is hard to give…

and harder still to take

Life is hard to live…

unless it’s lived for Love’s sake.

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–July, 1992

Friday Philosophy

Someone sent me an item last week about a transitioning transwoman (video at the link), a high school mathematics teacher in West Linn, OR.  On the face of it, this wasn’t a huge story, but it struck me as a huge coincidence.

Currently I have hardly slept for two days because every time I lay down, I have to cough.  The moving that is finally over apparently left my body in a run down state and I caught something on the first day of classes on Wednesday.  So I apologize if my current delirium causes any disjointedness.

Think of it as stream of unconsciousness.

Muse in the Morning

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Muse in the Morning

A Transition through Poetry VII

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Tarnished Silverpink

Sorry

I’m sorry that you hurt

I’m sorry that in living my life

I have caused you pain

I’m sorry that you are having trouble

attaining your goals

Love may mean

never having to say you’re sorry

But Friendship demands it

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–July, 1992

Muse in the Morning

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Muse in the Morning

A Transition through Poetry VI

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Faces

Faces

It was fear of the faces

that kept me at bay

recoiling in shock, alarm, disgust

shuddering with contempt, derision, revulsion

hardening into loathing, hatred, and fear

Four decades was a long time

–Robyn Elaine Serven

–January 11, 2006

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