Take the thorny, inconvenient step. Create a mess outside your usual jurisdiction.
Stop leaning on the learned practices that have kept the seams of duty
tight as they are. Divorce yourself from the false betrothals of ceremony and disrupt
each tidy garden plotted assumptively by your predecessors. The change
will do you good, birth a blush on your cheeks and a slight tremor in your legs,
the kind that reminds you these particular muscles are far from atrophied.
You are not merely the sum of your inheritances, an agreement made on the merits
of habit. You are the same oyster you tell your children the world is theirs to crack,
the one waiting for the tide to turn, slippery and possible,
every grain of salt winking in the sunlight.


Posted by kind permission of the poet.


Maya Stein
Maya Stein

Maya Stein is a Ninja poet, writing guide, and creative adventuress. She has kept a weekly short-form poetry practice, “10-line Tuesday” since 2005, and facilitates writing workshops in person and online. After a 7-year stint in suburban New Jersey, she is now happily ensconced in the wilds of mid-coast Maine, in a house named Toad Hall. Connect with her at mayastein.com. (Photo by Chris Battaglia)

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