Posted in Be You, My Story Monday

My Story Monday Part 2

Last week I started My Story Monday with the beginning of a poem.  I have edited the poem several times, including the portion I posted last week. On Sunday, during my daily trip to the gym, I realized that the story was bunk.

What?!?! Bunk? As in a bed? No. As in JUNK — no good — bogus.

So let’s start again.

My name is Krystal. Since I was little, I have had what most call intuition. If you watch NCIS, it’s like Gibbs and his gut. I have always just known things. It’s difficult to explain this knowledge when you are little. It’s not much easier as a grown up, but at least empathy is something we openly discuss.

I also talk to spirit or ghosts or angels. It is really difficult to explain spirit talking to you in your dreams when you are 4 years old. It sounds like you had a nightmare. I remember a lot of nightmares. I was never afraid of the dark, but I was not fond of shadows. My grandmother carries around a picture I drew when I was little. It was of a little girl with a shadow behind her that resembled Frankenstein. It was a friendly shadow – it even held a flower. But it was still a shadow, and it obviously scared me a little.

I have always felt like I didn’t quite fit. I made choices along the way that were supposed to help me fit in, but they never completely worked.

  1. I didn’t go to the special gifted class so that I could stay at my regular school with my regular friends. The Universe changed my school anyway.
  2. I became BFF’s with the most popular girl in school. We were often excluded from plans because if we weren’t invited, they knew we would have each other.
  3. I left the band so I could take a different elective, and stop being a band geek. I was still in all the smart classes, and now I was in the rotation that didn’t have my usual friends.

I was, and still am, an overachiever that wants to hide out. I have always been the first one finished but never wanted to be the first to turn it in. Kids aren’t exactly nice to the smart kids, and I changed schools every year. I just wanted to be normal. I just wanted to blend in. I just wanted friends.

Come back next week and we’ll look at everything I tried to shut this calling off.

Posted in Be You

Excuse me

HEY! Excuse me.

I’ve been here.
Waiting patiently.

Who am I?


To find me, 

Just do, then feel.

Don’t think…just feel.

It’s scary, I know.

So, I’ll stay here.

Waiting patiently.

Ready when you are.


Posted in Be You



The words are like fish

in the tank at a pet store.


Swimming frantic,

as if speed increases 

their chance at becoming

something magical.

Destined to swim.


Posted in Be You


Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. – Margaret Hungerford, 1878

Many see beauty as a 

perfectly symmetrical face,

with hair “just so”

and chiclet teeth. 

Others see beauty as

angelic perfection.

Always happy, always agreeable,

always eager to please.

I see beauty as a

compilation of imperfections,

remnants of our unique experiences,

creating a mosaic we know as life.

What do you see?  
(Add 4 lines in the comments about what’s beauty to you. We’ll do a group collaboration.)

Posted in Be You

Fearless wind

Wind skips along
the surface of the earth.
Tickling each brightly colored leaf
of the tree that is preparing
to sleep for the winter.
Caressing the grand foothills
that serve as gateways
to the castle-like mountain ranges
which protect the flora
and fauna within.
Wind never worries
about the reaction
to its affections.
It simply dances.
Never tiring.
Exploring the wonder.

Nov 4, 2015

Posted in Be You

Just another night

Sitting on my front porch.

Looking at the night sky.

Like a little girl I wonder,

are you up there?

I can just imagine you,

sitting on the edge of the moon,

dangling your feet into a crater.

Or spinning around

the mighty rings of Saturn,

pretending to be the needle

on an old record player,

while belting out

Sunday Bloody Sunday.

Just in case you are,

and you’re listening…

I miss you man.

Sing it again, for me.


Posted in Be You

Adulting? I’ve got this!

beep. beep. beep.

Snooze for 9 minutes.

Inhale. Smell the…

Oh yeah, broke the

coffee pot on Saturday.

That’s one more stop 

in an already busy day.

But I’ve got this!

Shower. Blow dry.

Hair uncooperative.

Of course, it is.

It’s an on camera day.

Let’s hope the headset

can function like a headband.

I’ve got this!

Seven eleven didn’t have

my coffee brewed.

McDonalds soda machine,


At least traffic is moving,

and I remembered my water.

I might really have this!

Spoke too soon.

A car fire reduces 

available driving lanes.

Farther up,

another morning 

fender bender.

Once we resume 

we hit the normal

traffic delays.

And of course, the gas light

chooses now to illuminate.

There’s a gas station

just after our exit.

I’ve still got this!

Can’t pay at the pump.

Line’s pretty long.

Stopped by every light

the rest of the way in.

Finally in the lot, 

and I realize my tag

is in my other car.

Secure a guest parking tag,

and finally grab a coffee.

Time to start the adulting 

part of my day.

I’ve got this!

Posted in Be You

I Need My Parents

Initially I needed you for everything

Nutrition, safety, hygiene

Mobility, language, learning

Everyday my dependence on you changing

Slowly able to get around

Quickly understanding my environment

Learning new lessons

Adding to everyone’s well being

Until one days it’s different

I think I don’t need you anymore

Didn’t I learn to value your advice?

Or am I too busy to notice

That maybe you needed me

Eventually our roles will flip

And you’ll need me kinda like

I needed you in the beginning

I don’t want to wait until then

To realize I needed you all along


Posted in Be You

Motivational Monday – Laundry

We are in the midst of summer conference at work, so my mind is a little distracted. 

Today’s poem honors my nemesis, laundry. 

Swirling masses of hot air 

rise over the rolling hills.Tranquil waters provide refuge

to overheating humans.

Ding. Laundry.

Hold that thought while I fold.

30 minutes go by.

What on Earth was I writing about?