I'm talkin' boundaries

A poem is a portal

With deep sadness comes the most soul ravaging poetry

In a dingy-lit concrete room, with the buzz of ancient air conditioning cast as our playlist for the hour, a bunch of eight-year-olds huddle over their creaky desks. A sniffle is heard here or there, and maybe the shuffling of rough leather sneakers on musty carpeted floors, but we were consumed by intense concentration.

My second-grade class was asked to submit poetry for a state-wide contest. We were given one parameter: to start each line with “I’m talkin’”.

For example:

I’m talkin’ beach.

I’m talkin’ waves,

I’m talkin’ sand.

I’m talkin’ foam bubbles tapping my feet…

This is not revolutionary poetry as we were eight years old, but it opened my world to being a poet. Poetry is not one size fits all. You don’t have to follow a template like above. Poetry is a language straight from your heart, your bones, your skin. It is a portal straight from your body to paper. All that juicy ancestral wisdom through DNA coding, lessons from personal encounters, and information that our body holds from experience, our subconscious unfolds into symbols and feelings. Translating your body’s wisdom before you give your brain a chance to recode, rewrite, and flip-flop the story to fit the needs of others instead of speaking your authentic truth.

A poem is a portal

A poem may be a boundary envisioned before you set it.

That spark from a flame before it sets something ablaze.

Now, let’s talk boundaries.

Boundaries are p a r a m o u n t in a healthy life. According to the American Psychological Association, a boundary is a psychological demarcation that protects the integrity of an individual or helps the person set realistic limits on participation in a relationship or activity.

Boundaries are an act of radical self-love.

Like I said above, in times of great sadness, pure grief, is when I write the most. I find these times to be scarily inspiring. It is hard for me to move, hard for me to complete the necessities of life like drinking water and moving, but my hands grip that pen like it’s going to save me from the wrath of an enemy. My pen is my wand. Reading poems back when you aren’t so heartbroken can help you zoom out. You may hold judgment for yourself. Things may not seem as deep anymore. Or maybe it strikes another chord in you, and you are just as riled up.

I’ve had super dark intervals where turning to poetry quite literally saved my life. No, it didn’t change the way I coped or experienced life, but it gave me the tools to earnestly understand how and what I was feeling at a time when my head was clouded with guilt, shame, and my worth tied at the end of a yo-yo. A powerful person, rather, a person I gave a lot of my power to, playing with it as he pleased. (It was hard to prevent, as there was a power imbalance to begin with) I wrote poems constantly, sometimes even in his presence, not caring if he saw or not. His energy dominated me in a way I can never explain without poetry. Poetry gave me the voice I needed. The roar and fight I didn’t have at the time.

I didn’t share it with anyone. That was for me. It was my portal to a life where I sang unchained melodies. I was free of a monopolizing reign. Reading these poems back and the process of writing them, when I was ready, helped me realize the boundary I needed, and eventually set with this person, for me to feel alive again.

I put myself first, and poetry helped me do that.

Boundaries are needed for everything. Not just romance (or the idea of it), but bosses, coworkers, actual work, school, family, friends, and strangers.

A few things to consider when setting a boundary

• Use “I” statements. People respond better to this because it doesn’t sound like you are blaming them. “YOU did this” “YOU made me feel.” Try “I feel ___ when..”

• They may not respond the way you want them to. That’s OKAY. You are only in control of yourself. Their reactions are a reflection of themselves.

• Learn to be comfortable with being uncomfortable.

• Sometimes, if not many times, it’s okay to be selfish. This is a BIG one. We’ve been taught that not self-sacrificing every minute is considered a self-serving motive and that’s wrong. Being selfish as a practice to respect ourselves and our well-being is authentically good and nourishing. BE SELFISH !!

Your homework:

Write a poem. Try not to think much if possible and just write what comes to the surface. A brain dump so-to-speak. Find something your heart, skin, bones, and DNA is trying to tell you. Uncover themes from this season of your life.

Next piece. Think of a boundary you need to set or have set. Write it down! This is incredible— already trailblazing doing the work for yourself. How magical! If you need help or advice, I am always here.

Abundant blessings ∞

-madison renee katherine

Below is a poem I wrote at a sad time, and now looking back at the amazing boundary I set with who I will allow in my life in the capacity of love, and how rewarding it was to see this bloom into something so perfect and beautiful and raw and intense. ahhhh.

I want someone

who will grab me by the neck and kiss me in public,

who will order for me,

tell me what to do,

support me and my career and passions.

inspires me to make art again but not in a

soul stabbing aching way.

I want a love that I would be sick of now

to see people celebrate and want to cry.