OUR MIGHTY SYCAMORE TREE

 

A series of essays….

OUR SYCAMORE TREE REMINDS ME OF THE PLANE TREES LINING
THE SMALLER ROADWAYS AND VILLAGES OF FRANCE;
TALL, STRAIGHT, AND MAJESTIC!

….as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E Hughes

Yes. Life is all about, at least it should be, watching two squirrels scramble down various rutted tree trunks and chase one another across the backyard. Taking the few seconds of time out from a busy morning to take this all in seems to be the biggest challenge for most of us. 

Even at my age, my mind is filled with ‘to do’ lists, schedules, and Zoom meetings. Heck, by the time those furry-tailed tree rodents scratch their way down to terra firma and make a run for it, I’ve begun my morning schedule of daydreaming, imagining different scenarios, plotting, all while attempting to put these thoughts into coherent and interesting sentences. 

Now that many people are easing out of the pandemic that has taken over our lives for the last several years, tiny stirrings of what I presume to be normalcy erupt inside me. I am encouraged by this. But, even as we begin sticking our toes into the nearly forgotten waters, we are chilled to the bone given all of the uncertainty about life that has to be dealt with if we desire to, actually, take the final plunge.

Even though the room I write in can change on any given day (as we continue the work on improving our little cottage), I have felt comfortable within the scope of my working existence for over two years and have found solace in the act of creating my stories to share with others. I humbly thank you, my dear readers, for allowing me time to get my head together before continuing my journey along this inspired path.

Each morning becomes a new adventure; each adventure brings new promises, often based upon my life, growing-up, and existing in a world of my own particular circumstances. It’s rather cozy here in my own skin. This is where I feel safe every morning—no matter which room I happen to be in or what the news has to offer.

It’s fairly certain, especially at my age, that the dark hand of death would be gripping my wrist and pulling me into the reality of one of life’s greatest promises: all living things will, eventually, pass on and we should be grateful for the time we have on this earth. We must make the most of it and improve with age like a fine wine or a brilliant French cheese! Many of us concentrate our best efforts at productive thinking towards the end of our lives and, I don’t believe this is, necessarily, the wrong thing to do. 

Slipping into a comfy groove, routine, after years of further education, employment, having and raising children, having these children marry and begin families of their own—feels very satisfying to me. Grandchildren have always been my priority and one  reason for living in Michigan, today. Sadly, three grandchildren have become as illusive as a David Copperfield performance with our daughter preferring her parents to be magically transformed into a lengthy disappearance act. Life can be disappointing, irrational, and absolutely unpredictable no matter how hard one tries to do the right thing; work on making things right, once again. Sadly, this is another story for another time.

No one has a perfect life. There are too many things that impede it. As it’s been said before, life itself tends to get in the way of perfection. But, if we can concentrate on what feels good, what makes us happy, or what makes others happy, we might just have a chance to experience the closest we can come to perfection in this lifetime. This is why my writing, especially at this time in my life, has become exceedingly important to me. Putting into words my feelings and beliefs in story form gives me a reason to exist; a purpose for spending time interacting with others and visiting unknown places in order to find others who believe in these same things. 

My heart goes out to all of the families who have unconventionally lost someone they love so dearly! We can, almost, come to terms with the fact that decease takes lives away from us on a daily basis. Aging is a process by which our bodies begin to deteriorate and leave us at their mercy. However, to witness our youth being deprived of their future and the promising possibilities of hope, is beyond comprehension. 

Within the past few weeks, I have had several relatives pass on. Children of friends have succumbed to cancer. Innocent grandparents and even a father purchasing a birthday cake for his son have been lost due to gun violence. Students and their teachers have been taken from their families because someone brandished a weapon of mass destruction and shot twenty-one innocent souls in a Texas elementary school. While the families grieve for their loss, authorities who won’t accept responsibility run and hide; spoiled adults being enabled by their peers who hold offices of importance within the very same community. No backbone. No shame.

This past Sunday, a good friend in her eighty’s left an open wound in the hearts of those who love her and must exist without her. May you Rest In Peace, my friend. The world has lost a very talented and beautiful lady!

It is difficult for me to take any of this lightly. It would take an extremely heartless person to do so.

Sitting back in my chair, once again, two squirrels, one black, one gray, repeat, with Indianapolis 500 speeds, their race to the bottom of the sycamore tree that lives outside of the window and has its roots under the surface of the ravine that exists alongside our house. And yet, our mighty sycamore tree stands straight and tall as it towers above most of the trees along the block.

What a long journey for my acorn loving neighbors to make on this lovely spring morning. With the gusto of fresh eyes and a willing disposition, the scene before me hatches over and over again as if it were Groundhog Day. Gladly taking a few seconds out of my busy morning, I savor the opportunity to witness nature’s little scramble along with its plethora of earthly colors and delights. 

Copyright © 2022 by Jacqueline E Hughes

All rights reserved.                                                 

THERE IS A DAY AND TIME FOR EVERYTHING!

 

A series of essays….

BREE’S ELIZABETHAN COLLAR COULD MAKE 
A CUTE LAMPSHADE, RIGHT?

….as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E Hughes

If having a soul means being able to feel love, loyalty and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans.

~James Herriot

As I nuzzled into her soft, ruby-colored face offering gentle kisses and whispered reassurances, I could smell the scent of almost every female in the place gathered within Bree’s collective coat; at this moment, a small receptacle used to store kindness, concern, and masses amounts of love. Each person had hugged and cared about Bree all morning long. By the time we came to pick her up and bring her home, it seemed the entire clinic would be coming home with us in this very special way.

Is it possible to work in a veterinarian clinic and not feel affection for each pet that comes through the front door accompanied by the humans who love them? 

Following being gifted Bree on Christmas Eve morning, finding a veterinarian was the next logical step. With Covid-19 complications and, quite frankly, so many of us having a pet (even multiple pets), made it difficult to get Bree into a clinic. Actually, we had little time to prepare considering our three-month old bundle of Mini-Goldendoodle came as a complete surprise to us! Our family unit grew to three, literally, overnight.

By the time we were fortunate to find a veterinarian not far away who could see her and proceed with her vaccinations and boosters, we knew it was time to seriously consider having her spayed. Running a puppy farm was not in the cards for us, even though having more tiny Doodles to love would be very satisfying—it just wasn’t going to happen. So, by her first visit to the clinic in early March, we found ourselves setting-up the appointment to have Bree spayed. 

Originally, we were given an appointment in late April, but they called to ask if the eleventh of April would work for us. Sure, sure, why not? The sooner the better because all we wanted to do was get this over with and not drag it out any longer then it needed to be. No matter what, Bree would be blindsided; even though we would not be, my emotional status became more and more delicate with each passing day.  I was hampered with thoughts of Bree losing her gregarious and joyful personality, let alone the pain and recuperation time she was going to go through after surgery.

Dan and I have had two male puppies within the last thirty-some years. Loved both, dearly. Maybe because this puppy is female, I can better identify with her anatomy and create the possibility of different medical scenarios associated with being female. Besides, a parent (including parents of fur babies) will never feel comfortable when their children are in pain. Rather, they will choose to make them feel better, more safe and secure. Would she even love me after this was all said and, finally, done? 

Our family and friends reassured us that she would love us, always. With this in mind, we woke-up early this past Monday to be at the clinic by seven-thirty, just as the sun was rising and bathing Bree’s fur in its golden richness. Her swirling, red tones were enhanced and decorated as if bejeweled with precious stones as she pranced along the parking lot toward the clinic’s front door. Ah, such happiness and uncomplicated bliss. At this point, her confidence in us was totally unspoiled. 

The doctor called Dan’s cell phone around eleven thirty telling us Bree had done very well and that we could come pick her up at two-thirty. I remember thinking to myself that of course she did! She’s our Bree, after all.

The doctor’s call had gone to voicemail because we were inside a large retail store with poor cell signal and on a wild, slightly guilt ridden, shopping spree for new puppy toys, a soft and comfortable puppy bed, a blue feeding dish designed with a swirl pattern guaranteed to slow her eating frenzy habits, and, maybe, a few more items thrown in for good measure. Did you know you could purchase a small, very comfortable looking doggy bed made by Lazy-Boy for slightly over 125 dollars? I didn’t either. Sorry to say it’s not part of Bree’s furniture inventory. Even practicality can transcend the amount of guilt I was feeling about all of this. 

 

After consulting with Nicky, the technician who had assisted the doctor several hours earlier, Bree was brought out to us…looking as though all life and good cheer had been kicked several light years away, never to return. Her once sparkling, brown eyes, now glassy and blank, were swimming in a breathless sea of oblivion. She had yet to come down from the effects of the anesthesia and this once vivacious little peanut looked as though she’d lost the will to flourish.

BREE NEEDED A SOFT, QUIET SPOT TO REST

When Nicky handed me the soft, Elizabethan collar decorated with colorful caricatures of cute puppies and kittens, the first thing that popped into my head wasn’t that it looked kinder and more comfortable than the older version of hard, white plastic. No, all I could think to say was that it would make an adorable lampshade after Bree no longer needs it. Well, I’m all about repurposing and this (cone) was so cute!

After paying for her post surgery medication and snuggling her close to my chest I, once again, could sense the scent of sweet caring emanating from each young person who helped our Bree make it through this day. With smiles and good cheer they waved good-bye to their little patient and wished her well. The look of stoic resignation on Bree’s face said it all! She just wanted to go home, settle into a soft place, and sleep. 

That is how we celebrated our precious animal companion on National Pet Day, April 11, 2022. National Pet Day was founded in 2006 by animal welfare advocate, Colleen Paige, to celebrate the joy pets bring to our lives, as well as to create public awareness about the plight of many different kinds of animals awaiting a forever home in shelters and rescues all around the world.

I’m not sure that Bree would necessarily agree with us, but having her spayed was an important step to help stop the overpopulation of unwanted animals and that is a very good thing. Please help by having your pets spayed and neutered!

By the way—Bree is doing just fine. Wishing you a Happy Easter Sunday with Love and Kindness to all!

MAY I HAVE THIS DANCE?

Copyright © 2022 by Jacqueline E Hughes

All rights reserved

  

“THE ONLY LESSON YOU CAN LEARN FROM HISTORY IS THAT IT REPEATS ITSELF”

 

A series of essays.....

HOLODOMOR: STALIN’S UKRAINIAN GENOCIDE, 1932-1933

.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E Hughes

"Those damn Bolsheviks!" is the quote from my Ukrainian Grandfather, Antone Moshak, that has lived deep inside my soul ever since I was a little girl. He was so adamant and repetitious that it became my grandfather's 'battle cry' and was guaranteed to set the stage for many evening conversations. He could be stubborn as a mule and, as I grew older, with several history lessons later, I began to understand why.

“The only lesson you can learn from history is that it repeats itself,” is a quote by the author of the book The Great Pearl of Wisdom, Bangambiki Habyarimana. This quote, in time, may serve to gauge and determine the future of our world as we know it. Will we continue to allow history to repeat itself as if on a looped playback continuously showing us pictures of inhumane atrocities such as the Irish Potato Famine in the nineteenth century, the Jewish Holocaust from the period of 1933 to 1945, and the recent starvation tactics of the Syrian civil war with all of the innocent victims and refugees it has created?

How does the world perceive Vladimir Putin and his current atrocities against the people of Ukraine? Is it strictly a land grab or will history proclaim his actions as the genocide of the Ukrainian people with the direct intention of totally destroying them, their history, their culture, their identity?

 

"Miscellaneous thoughts and insights on life come to me when I am alone gazing at the starry sky at night, walking by the sea, through the wood, watching people at a party, going to the market, by a chance encounter, or when my sleep fails me." An author of nineteen distinct works, Bangambiki Habyarimana is a community worker who assists young adults in the fight against HIV AIDS through education and counseling in Mozambique. He is a young man who is wise way beyond his years.

Reading Bangambiki's quote, I can recall the remote look in my grandfather's eyes. How much loss and sorrow can people take before breaking down completely? The war in Ukraine has served to reintroduce Holodomor and its relationship to what is taking place in this beautiful country currently.

If you've never heard of the term Holodomor before, you are not alone. It may even sound like a character straight out of a J. R. R. Tolkien novel. Sadly, it is not. Learning about Holodomor, pronounced 'huh-luh-duh-more,' I can identify with the distant look in grandpa's eyes that filled with unequivocal hatred with each cry of "Those damn Bolsheviks!"  

The literal Ukrainian definition of the word Holodomor is: "Death by forced starvation."

My recent inquisitiveness was sparked by a gentleman by the name of Bobby Leigh. I met Bobby online and his vibrant and colorful personality enriched my imagination right from the beginning! Bobby is a twelve-time, Award Winning Filmmaker and has over twenty-five years in the Music and Entertainment Business where he has produced and/or toured with such Rock-n-Roll legends as Aerosmith, Kiss, Lynyrd Skynyrd, and Quiet Riot, to name a few. As an author, film director, producer, actor, and visionary, Bobby is a very busy person.

On November 17, 2015, Bobby shared a press release on his Facebook Page that immediately caught my attention:

"PRESS RELEASE: My Film "HOLODOMOR: Ukraine's Genocide" will be screening in SAN FRANCISCO this Weekend on Saturday 21 November 2015 at the Main San Francisco Public Library at 2:00-4:00 PM. Koret Auditorium, lower level. FREE. Please come and show support for our movie. Q & A following screening with writer/director/producer: Bobby Leigh & producer: Marta Tomkiw."

Logline: “The biggest lie, the best kept secret.”

Considering my family's roots and knowing that many of my relatives live in the Ukraine today and, God willing, are surviving Putin’s regime, I needed to view this film for myself back then. I was hoping it could shed even more light on the hatred my grandfather held in his heart for Russia. Short of flying out to California, I wrote to Bobby and asked where and when it might be showing near me or if I could purchase a copy of "Holodomor" for myself. Up to this point in my life, I had yet to see pictures, film or any footage of this horrific event that would help me understand this deep, dark, and sad history of the Ukrainian people.  Bobby's longline seemed to be holding true: “The biggest lie, the best kept secret.”

I presumed that his great passion for exposing this dark secret in history was connected with his own heritage and asked him if this were the case. In true Bobby fashion, he replied, "I'm not Ukrainian. I made this movie because, once I found out about this subject, I was pissed off that I was not taught this at University. I felt that this story needed to be told." He proceeded to send me a copy of his film for my perusal.

I must ask how many of you are familiar with this historical event yourselves? If you are, when and where were you exposed to it? Did you learn about it in any level of your formal education? Do you have family or friends who talked about it? Considering the Holodomor is a major blot on the history of the world, equal to the Holocaust, (which means "sacrifice by fire"), brought about by the Nazis who came to power in Germany in 1933, why isn't it as prominent within our fundamental education?

I know that Bobby must have asked himself this last question a million times.

If over six million Jews could be obliterated by a regime led by Hitler under the auspices of racial superiority, blind power, and pure hatred, then how could over 30,000 men, women, and children in Ukraine die each day in the height of this famine-genocide in 1933 and the world not be aware of it? 

To get the answer to this question, one must look briefly into the history of Russia. 

In 1917, the Bolsheviks, led by Vladimir Lenin, take power in Russia. The Soviet Union is formed in 1922 with Ukraine becoming one of the republics. Soon afterwards, Lenin dies and Joseph Stalin ascends to power and introduces a program of agricultural collectivization in 1928 that forces farmers to give up everything they own to factory-like collective farms......and then were told to work on these farms in order to exist with no compensation whatsoever. 

Proud and successful Ukrainian farmers, labeled Kurkuls, refuse to return to earlier serfdom and in 1929 Stalin introduces a policy of 'class warfare' in order to breakdown resistance. The following year, nearly a half a million people are dragged from their homes, packed into freight trains and shipped to remote areas such as Siberia where they are left to perish from starvation and inclement weather.

Between 1932 and 1933, the entire population of Ukrainian villages are wiped-out due to the blockades erected around them preventing the transport of food from the outside into them and  locking the hungry inside. Joseph Stalin of Russia is determined to 'teach a lesson through famine' and, ultimately, deals a crushing blow to the backbone of Ukraine, it's rural population.

By 1934, approximately ten million deaths, including three million children, and nearly twenty-five percent of the Ukrainian population, are attributed to starvation within the borders of Soviet Ukraine, not including deportation, executions, or natural deaths. Stalin denies forced famine in the Ukraine and continues to export millions of tons of grain to the outside world. 

Denial, denial, denial was generated on all sides of this horrific situation which included Western governments who adopted a passive attitude toward the famine, even though they had become aware of the suffering in Ukraine via confidential diplomatic channels. Franklin Roosevelt, newly elected in 1933, recognized Stalin's government and turned a 'blind eye' to the famine due to a lucrative trade agreement with the Soviet Union. Shame on all of us who see monetary gain and power as the holy grail rather than the bane of our existence. Definitely, another prime example of history repeating itself.

Early on, my grandparents lived through and recognized the inevitable results of the Bolshevik uprising. To pull-up stakes, forsake family ties, and emigrate to an unknown place, put them at risk every step of the way. Survival itself takes on its own risks and would it not be better to hope for a future and do something about it than to perish with no hope left at all? Literally, standing here today, I am most grateful to my proud and heroic grandparents for choosing to be safe and free, no matter what the cost.

It is because of good people like Bobby Leigh and others associated with Moksha Films who recognized injustice and chose  to expose it rather than keep it under wraps like a skeleton pushed into the depths of a dark closet filled with secrets and blatant denials. Bobby's documentary, "HOLODOMOR: Ukraine's Genocide," should be adapted to all languages, viewed, discussed, analyzed, and included in every school curriculum throughout the world until this tragic famine-genocide of the Ukrainian people is recognized and catalogued for what it was, an atrocity against millions of innocent people for political and personal gains. 

Thank you, Bobby Leigh.....!

On November 28, 2006, according to The Connecticut HolodomorCommittee, the Parliament of Ukraine passed a decree defining the Holodomor as a deliberate 'Act of Genocide.' Although the Russian government continues to call Ukraine's depiction of the famine a "one-sided falsification of history," it is now recognized as genocide by over two dozen nations. 

Many Ukrainians survived to give eyewitness accounts of this abomination. Bobby has featured several survivors and their brief testimonies in his documentary. Their personal recollections sent chills down my spine as I watched their tears flow freely when speaking about personal experiences during this execution by hunger.

The Spanish philosopher and poet, George Santayana, once said, "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." Are we doomed to repeat the past by being so disingenuous as many of our politicians and leaders are today? My hope is that the solemn words of Bangambiki Habyarimana are incorrect when he says, "The only lesson you can learn from history is that it repeats itself." 

Only by understanding the genocide of the past can we hope to prevent others from occurring in our lifetime. Yet, armed with all of this information, we may already be too late as the unprovoked war rages in Ukraine claiming thousands of innocent civilian lives. We must aid the Ukrainian military in every way possible before statistics prove that all hope is fleeting. The world owes Volodymyr  Zelenskyy and the beautiful people of Ukraine the dignity of life they so deserve; along with the worldwide recognition of war crimes being committed by Russia every day.

Now that I understand my grandfather better, I realize that the stoic look emanating from his ancient eyes culminated from deep within him as he constantly remembered what was, and was saddened by never being able to know what could have been. 

Lovingly, I dedicate this essay to my Ukrainian Grandmother and Grandfather, Alexandria and Antone Moshak and to the fortitude displayed by the people of Ukraine. Glory to Ukraine!

You can visit Bobby online at: 

 www.facebook.com/BobbyLeighAuthor

www.HOLODOMORthemovie.com    

Copyright © 2022 by Jacqueline E Hughes

All rights reserved

HARMONY

 

A series of essays….

BETWEEN BOUTS OF TUSSLING AND THE SHEER FRENZY
OF ACTIVE PLAYTIME…THESE MOMENTS OF
HARMONY, BLISSFULLY, EXIST.

….as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E Hughes

Harmony is the balance we seek within a world that has become so unstable, off kilter, and often, oppressive and dangerous. Harmony is a relationship in which various components exist together in peace. The harmonious framework of life that allows humans of all races, every species of bird and fish, all of the colors and sounds of a lush forest in summertime, to live in agreement with one another as a whole; congruity. It is the sweet spot in a musical composition that reminds us that things could be and have been different when all of the players are in cooperation with one another while playing any given piece; agreeable sounds that are consistent, orderly, and the pleasing arrangement of all its known parts.

It may seem to us that it’s only been recently that the world has become biased and unfairly prejudiced within its distorted judgment of right and wrong, good vs. evil, and its creation of a jaundiced viewpoint that leaves us with a bitter, cynical, and hostile environment in which to live. Let’s remind ourselves that there has always been, throughout the span of time, aggression; one individual or group that has denied others their right to live free and balanced by the outstretched hand of a harmonious state of being. Humankind has always been challenged by someone who desires to disrupt the positive balance of life through their greed, need for power, and general lack of scruples, or the logical motivation derived from ethical and moral principles.  Their exaggerated sense of self-importance, the ego, thrives within them casting its negativity across the land behind a self-righteous smokescreen of manipulative lies and falsehoods.

Harmony must be consciously sought-after and attained before the people of the world can exist without destroying one another.  It must become our priority and preemptive action before dealing with those who desire the disruption of peace in order to fulfill ancient and strong habits of annihilation and obtain power over others. As with different kinds of fish living in harmony in rivers, lakes, and streams, so must humankind understand that relationships are built on trust and the idea that various components can exist side-by-side in a harmonious fashion. It would be considered most prudent to pass all of our positive lessons on to the generations that follow with a strong emphasis on peace, mindfulness, and the sterling hope for a much more cooperative, kind, and loving world to live in. We can then, and only then, know the true meaning of living in harmony—for years to come. It can be done and it will be done. We Must Believe.

Copyright © 2022 by Jacqueline E Hughes

All rights reserved

IN MY JOY

 

A series of essays….

THE EARTH’S EQUATOR IS ALIGNED DIRECTLY WITH 
THE SUN ON THE VERNAL EQUINOX

….as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E Hughes

I am such a lucky person. I’m in my joy! Truly, I am! Nobody can take it from me. I keep telling myself this every day and it’s been well worth it. Hearing it often helps me know that it’s legitimate and that each day will hold new, interesting, and even great things for me to look forward to, contemplate and absorb. It’s all based on the natural blending of imagination and truth. Honestly, if we lose the magical touch of this powerful combination, we could be doomed as a human race and sentenced to a zombie-like existence like those being portrayed in many movies and comic books.

Last Monday afternoon we were swept-up in a whirlwind of blue milk caps, pieces of newsprint, and discarded medicine bottles (empty, of course) that were being tamed by a Lion Queen wielding a wooden chair and a bullwhip. It was explained that the reason ‘she writes’ is because her voice is not heard, and it certainly must be. A person requires two things in order to survive: harmony and buttonholes. The fact is that we, like the stars, are never, truly, finished. We can imagine through multiple scenarios the instant our parents met one another and danced together, sweet and slow. Finally, through a project that is affectionately called, Stickhenge, we learned that it’s possible to recreate Stonehenge, the only surviving lintelled stone circle in the world, with broomsticks and capture the March equinox in our own backyard using fortitude, scientific data, patience, and unequaled parts of imagination and truth. 

Interesting note: did you know that in the 1830’s until around 1850 in the United Kingdom, it was very popular to have females tame lions and tigers in a managerie or collection of captive animals for the purpose of entertainment? These ladies were known as Lion Queens.

That’s quite a bit of reassurance of our own worth and self importance tucked away in just a couple of hours on a sunny afternoon in late March! That’s what you get when eight ladies occupy their seats around a large table within a room that is part of one of the best independent bookstores I’ve ever known, Kazoo Books, located on Parkview Avenue in Kalamazoo, Michigan. Especially when, as a group, we had not met in person (only Zoom meetings) for way too many months. Believe me when I tell you that the conga line for giving and receiving hugs was joyful, and long overdue!

We are the Ladies of Voices, as I like to refer to us, or more accurately, Voices on the Margin, a poetry group that not only studies the lives of various poets near and far, but takes it one step further by writing our own poetry based upon their style and visage of life in general while giving thought toward the poet’s writing technique and/or subject matter of each work. Often our poets have engaged in other forms of writing, such as fiction or nonfiction essays and novels. Familiarizing ourselves with each individual, whether a contemporary or posthumously, female or male, encourages us to open ourselves up to ideas and challenges we may not have thought about before. 

Our inspiration for this day was the Detroit born poet and clinical psychotherapist in private practice, Ken Meisel, who is exceptionally interesting, especially among many of us who have lived, worked in, or even only visited the Detroit area. 

Initially, we cornered the market, so to speak, on women poet laureates including Carol Ann Duffy, Joy Harjo, Molly Fisk, Tracy K. Smith, and Natasha Trethewey. In the spirit of fair practice, we have studied the works of Jack Ridl, local writer, educator, and poet who has created several exceptional poetry editions that inspire us to learn more about the importance of our everyday life and then write about it—simply and honestly. 

The convenience of Zoom meetings has offered our group the ability to include local published poets and have them share their personal work, thoughts, and ideas, with us. Kathleen McGookey has published four books of prose poems and three chapbooks, most recently Instructions for My Imposter (Press 53) and Nineteen Letters(BatCat Press). She has also published We’ll See, a book of translations of French poet Georges Godeau’s prose poems. She has graced us with all of the charm and benevolence of the talented person she is by giving us an evening of talk, reading selected poems, and answering the questions of ‘would like to be published’ poets.

Because we, the Ladies of Voices, have scheduled a Zoom reading of our own poetry, soon, we have had to reach back into the archives and select five minutes worth of work to share with family and friends. In doing so, I was amazed by the many pieces I’d written and accumulated throughout the years! Many I had not read for months and it felt amazing to pull them back into the light, once again.

I am proud of all of us. We are in our joy and not a single person can take that away from us. To be a part of this group is to hold the future in our hands; sharing  with others how wonderful it is to learn and physically create entire worlds from our own imaginations, talk about them with each other, all the while educating our sensibilities via published writers who have gone through this process for years themselves.

If you haven’t already, may I suggest awakening your ‘Joy’ by joining a poetry or writing group. Maybe your thing is working with clay, dancing and singing, painting, cooking, or any other activity that makes you happy and might, just might, give you a new lease on life. Enjoy to the fullest extent whatever it is you choose to do!

Copyright © 2022 by Jacqueline E Hughes

All rights reserved