Author Archives: April Lee

not the me-i-want-to-be

“anger is pain’s bodyguard”
(david kessler)
 
 

 
 
i didn’t start 2022 out very well
though january 1 did begin with a bang
it was because of something
i’m not proud of

i lashed out
on the very first day
of the brand new year
and i hurt other people

i attempted to
apologize, to
make it better

and they were
gracious, kind, immediate
in their forgiveness

but i was wrong
and still feel badly
about my outburst

i do believe my anger
came from a unique place
of pain and grief

i’d been mourning my mom and dad
that brisk winter morning
contemplating on the dawn
of yet another year without them

but my in-the-moment reaction
was the worst way
to turn a fresh new page

you may not know this
but i’ve struggled with
anger in the past

after a long period
of inner work
i thought i was finally
past those heated responses

choosing not to be
that easily-enraged person
anymore

and just like that
i blew it
finding myself losing
my temper once again

i wish i could say
i’d evolved a bit more
but i’m not going
to beat myself up

i did it, it’s over
and i made the best amends
i possibly could

i just sincerely hope they know
how truly sorry i am
and how that honestly
was not the me-i-want-to-be

to anyone who has ever been
on the other side of my rage
please accept my apology
 
 
 
 

moods that take me

i’ve been thinking a lot lately
about how others see me
how i come across
and if it’s at all similar
to how i see myself

who do they think i am?
what do they think i can do?
when do they think i feel strong, feel weak?

searching for homeostasis

“apparently there were seven stages of grief,
but that was a neat way of putting it.
grief was messy and didn’t colour inside the lines.”

~emily gale
 
 

abstract by april m lee


 
 
grief is certainly messy
and unpredictable
troubling, distracting

it comes and it goes
it ebbs and it flows
though sometimes anticipated
it can hit unexpectedly

an accident
an uprooting
a betrayal
a passing
any event that changes
the way we do life

new job
new home
new family
new situation

anything
unfamiliar
unrehearsed
unsettled

i’m struggling a bit
at the moment
not sleeping well or enough
and when i literally can’t breathe
i soon can’t breathe metaphorically

trying to forge a new chapter
that seems unreachable
unimaginable

many moments of anxiety
as i work to untangle those things
which seem gnarled and knotty

added weight
added pressure
added complications

lingering anxiety
a new thing for me
never so specific
and permanent-feeling before

and suddenly i realize
i’m grieving

for what was
for what could have been
even for what may be ahead

but it’s okay
because grief can also
be oddly soothing
a gift our body gives us

allowing ourselves to
let the dam burst
let the tears surge
a flood of emotions
and questions
and yearnings

to process the loss
to begin making sense
of the unknown future

searching for
homeostasis
a balance
physiological, psychological
our essence
our home
 
 
 
 

unwelcome

frightening words
slicing through our
daily routines

drink coffee
shower
invasion
 
 
evoking agitation, anxiety
an unsettled feeling
in our souls

work
buy groceries
conflict
 
 
heart-wrenching images
of people and pets
their new beds in the subway

walk
drive
missiles
 
 
surreal to us, like a movie
but a sad harsh reality
for ukrainians

scroll up and down
comment
destruction
 
 
we watch the news
we feel the fear
we wish for peace

hug
cry
war
 
 
a former comedian who stays
and fights for his country
leadership that impresses

eat
sleep
bravery
 
 
fallen buildings
fleeing citizens
rising casualties
(a word that never seemed right)

we worry
we wait
we wonder
 
 

 
 
 
 

because


 
 
because

some days start slow
time to sit and ponder
to think and assess
to savor a cup of tea
and appreciate the scent of a flower
time to breathe
quiet
 
 
because

other days start out rushed
flying out of bed
with the first alarm bell
hurrying, stumbling
knowing you’ve forgotten something
no time no time no time
noise
 
 
because

days have their seasons
and months do too
sometimes many months, even years

i am currently in the rush season
where days slip by with hardly a chance
to catch my breath

no real deadline, yet feeling the pressure
to move beyond this renovation stage
and relax into our new home

i do sneak in several slow days, here and there
(while my husband works on at the pink house)
i’d go bananas otherwise
 
 
so i am taking one right now
to gather my thoughts
write this blog post
plan a decent dinner
catch up on to-do lists
design-in-my-mind the next room
to recharge

because
 
 
how about you?

could not write

as some of you noticed, i didn’t publish my studio notes for a long time. not for eleven months, almost a year. i didn’t do much journaling during that time either. it wasn’t that i had nothing to write about. oh no, plenty going on, still is.

the coat that everybody loves

this is the coat.
the coat that makes people happy.
the coat that everybody loves.

every time i wear it,
someone exclaims over it.
sometimes 3 or 4 someones.

“your coat looks so cozy!”
“i adore your coat!”
“your coat makes me feel cheerful!”

my family waits for it now.

choose grit

stepping into the unknown
constantly, continuously
optimism, then despair
forward, back, forward, back
transparencies, complexities
assurances, uncertainties

there’s no sugarcoating it
life feels pretty damn demanding at times
we have difficult decisions to make
unpleasant obstacles to face
challenging roads ahead of us

sometimes there is no quick fix to our troubles
anxiety, fear, and shame constant companions
the best we can do is try to make
wise decisions along the way
believe that each and every moment
we can choose
to go a different direction
to follow an alternate path

are we strong enough
brave enough
gutsy enough?

home

what does home mean to me?
 
 
september 2012
(after making the decision to sell our home in washington state and become global nomads)

we are headed toward not having an actual physical place to call home and, during the process of geographically untethering our lives, we have discussed and explored what home really means to us.

the 26-year quest

i have wanted a pink house since my oldest son was two years old. that was in 1995.

it was the summer, almost 27 years ago, that our young family was moving from seattle washington to anchorage alaska. we were planning to paint our newly-purchased home when we arrived.