MULTIDIMENSIONAL-hand written page from one of my journals. The typed image is from my poetry book. I tagged the page 1/7/16 as this is when I sat with my 30+ years of journals and pulled selected poems for publishing.
I’ve lost count how many times I sat here at my laptop to write and well, yeah. So I figured I would go to something I know, my poems. I know I like to read how a song is conceived and songs are poetry stories in music.
I haven’t read the classics or much of anyones poetry so there is no inspirations here from ‘the greats’. My writing journey began as journal entries as a teenager. Poems came through as a teen and through each decade with the most being written in my 30’s-40’s. I’ve noticed patterns in my thought processes that manifest in rhyme.
The above poem, MULTIDIMENSIONAL was written near the end of 2002. I was becoming more aware of the chameleon affects of life. The ability to blend in where ever. The ability to become what ever was necessary to get through moments while knowing there is a solid core inside. The most interesting people I’ve known in life are those who have experienced a multitude of diverse moments. I know I’ve thrust myself into places I never foresaw yet through observation and awareness grew a new part of myself.
A co-worker told me when I accept all parts of myself I will know peace. So this poem came from feeling all these parts, some felt more strongly than others and some I wish I never met. Nevertheless, all parts every day playing nicely together. Most days are challenging for me to manage anxiety which is just fear. It’s the fears of where I’ve been and where I’m going. The challenge to remain in the present moment as is. I also know I am an empath and sensitive to energies of people and places.
This poem was written while I was working as an exotic dancer in San Francisco. A job in a long line of various jobs. Every night I worked I played therapist to someone it seemed. I learned a lot about human nature in the few years at that job. The question, “Does your mom know what you do?” or insert any family member. The comments: “You must love attention to do this job.” “You must have low self esteem to be here.” “I’ll bet you hate men.” None of these statements had truth, to me it was just a job. Maybe I’ll write a series of stories “The stripper chronicles” or something. The psychology of the people who both work in that environment and come in as patrons is enough to write volumes of information about.
To wrap this poem up, it came from feeling like every time I went to work I needed to be something else to get through it. From the time I entered the door of the club to the transformation in the locker room, a new persona. How easy it would have been to just be an attractive person offering entertainment in the form of a dance. I became a multidimensional therapist more than anything else and wasn’t much of a good hustler so my purse was often more empty than full when I left the club.
I met women who I felt an instant kinship to who remain as friends today some years later. Some of us had similar paths that brought us to jobs as strippers in the early 2000’s. I felt like I had sort of found my tribe. I didn’t judge anyone for how they arrived at the same place as I. Each one of us have a story to tell that is uniquely all our own just as our feelings and expressions of emotions. “Feeling and showing, it’s nothing new. “