A while back I introduced you to the poetry of my niece who writes under the pen name, Otissus. She possess the gift found in so many good poets of being able to render into verse her deepest life experiences. Here she shares a poem on vocation, followed by a prose reflection. In her words, “Perhaps we could call it, a Metapoetic? The goal is to gain understanding of a poem by listening to the writer’s inspiration and lived experience behind it.”
Ever felt like you haven’t accomplished enough
Resume type of filling
Activities or honorees received
When facing the computer screen with
The last job being a
Couple years deep?
This emptiness is my dread but
My path to success isn’t
By trading kid for bread
I wrote this poem to reach
The hiring department esteemed
As a more former than teach.
Perhaps what drives me is vengeance
For my lack of good grades as a youth
Taunted me to education or
Me figuring any’s
Qualified résumé pomp
Would beat mine in a match up but
Perhaps not possess
A poem up in the
Wrench or my
Competitive mindset
CV
I seek vocation
Work with a higher purpose
Earnings from collected
No sales goals
Just students of
A community’s well being
As scholars and future leaders
As a pupil with
Wondering wonders
It was a struggle
My job is to relay it
In a way to long term
Store it
Attention is short-lived
Engage!
Learning is active
My resume is so yesterday
An early sabbatical with
The following thesis
The Common Core is the Earth
The Standards are driven to
Nourish this
Give like a monk and mirror their verbiage
Learn with movement
Pen and paper are my superpower
Pen and paper are my superpower
I’ve never so
Looked forward to a
Clock hour
One of my favorite teachers from Seattle Prep was my writing teacher, Mr. Olson. It was from him that I first heard the word, “vocation.” He described it as a calling to do something greater than, that heals, that connects, that teaches. Never one to compete in the monetary rat race, this notion cruised up my alley. I didn’t know what yet, but I knew to listen for a type of calling.
The first call (or, “opportunity’s knock”) was for coaching summer basketball camp in high school. Fitness, coordination, and competition have been a part of my identity since childhood, growing up with three older siblings and a neighborhood block of boys. My natural inclination to “go out and play” helped build my confidence in that area of my life. Giving back through coaching was a natural calling after it had given me talent and prowess. I yearned to share my enthusiasm, try to make someone else a better player and person. The whole time one is coaching they are devoting all their effort and focus to the greater good of the team, as if they must care the most, in order for the athletes to care at all. But I digress as I am in the thick of my son and daughter’s soccer teams’ coaching duties.
While coaching served the purpose of vocation, it didn’t fill me wholly. So invested was I in the pursuit of excellence in my area of interest, my intellectual self was low-key shunned. I figured no one sees my grades in the immediate sense, and my focus was sharp on getting the next win. My failure in school was calling me back to make right for others. Mighty was I in thinking that I could reach those over eager to move their body or on to the next because I lived it and I was keen on what will catch. I taught for over five years in elementary education before my “early sabbatical” during which time bringing up was abound with my young children at home with me. With tummy time for days and days spent cleaning, reading or being the bed for sleeping, my mind was in the moment or best action for their future planning and everyone livings’ Mother.
Be Well.
Just a thought…
Otissus