Terri L. French
“Acceptance Is a Small, Quiet Room”
While most children were sent to their rooms as punishment, my room was a haven. There, when I questioned or doubted myself, I could discuss life with my stuffed animals (my pink snake, Rosy, was the best listener). Though the songbook for my Magnus electric organ was limited, I learned to master “Onward Christian Soldiers” and “Cockles and Mussels,” Alive Alive, Oh! I found Adventure with Nancy Drew, wrote my first ill-rhymed poetry on the pages of my diary, and as a teen listened to 8-tracks, practiced yoga by candlelight.
Fifty years later, when the voices of a false self berate me, I still go to my room. Only now I find it in nature and speak to trees, caterpillars, or even rocks, who all tell me I am doing just fine.
falling leaves beauty in my turning
Notes:
Title is from Cheryl Strayed’s Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar.
The haiku previously appeared in #FemkuMag, October 2018.
About the Author
Terri L. French is a poet/writer and retired Massage Therapist. She and her husband, Ray, have four mostly grown children and one spoiled dog. They now enjoy the nomadic life of full-time RVers.
Lovely imagery. Yes, we all need our special room, wherever that may be.
Thank you, Martin. I hope you’ve found your special room!