#SeasonalSonnets 2017: 4th December

Hello my lovely readers

As promised, a much shorter #SeasonalSonnets entry tonight - because I've had a very busy day. It's been a hopeful one, though, so that's what this piece is about. The hope to be found in mutual support.

With love and spoons until tomorrow (and huge thanks for the response to yesterday's post!)

Jx

4^th December 2017

Today my sonnet muses on support

and all the wondrous people I do know

with whom I’m lucky to have such rapport

and who remind me where I want to go*.

My supervisors are far more than that,

and help beyond the bounds of academics,

my friends are there to read my wordy rants;

we watch shows, sing, and talk about poetics.

So often in this current world of ours,

we mention all the ways we are dividing.

Today my thoughts have rested on the powers

by which we help each other keep surviving.

However much life might seem strange and muddling,

if we can stick together, we’ll keep trundling.

Copyright Jessi Parrott 2017

 

#SeasonalSonnets 2017: 3rd December

Hello my lovely readers

I'm back for the third entry of this year's #SeasonalSonnets, which was inspired by a combination of two very important things.

Firstly, the fact that today is designated by the UN as the International Day of Disabled People (or International Day of People with Disabilities, depending on who you ask). 'Disabled People' references the Social Model of Disability, and foregrounds the ways people are disabled by society rather than their individual bodies or minds (which experience 'impairments' instead of 'disability'). I use this social framework academically and politically, but both personally and professionally (as a theatre practitioner) I'm acutely aware of the embodied nature of the lived experiences of disability life. Moreover, for a variety of reasons, I tend (personally, not politically) to prefer to focus on my personhood first, which is in line with the person-first phrase 'People with Disabilities'. So I suppose I'm more ambivalent and uncertain about the language I use to describe my own sense of self and my experiences.

That said, I am extremely committed to advocating for social justice in my activism - and it is vital to make that statement in the current climate, especially in the middle of UK Disability History Month. I also know that, whilst my body definitely causes issues, many more problems are posed for me and my friends by the social structures we come up against.

This brings me to my second point of inspiration for today's sonnet, because they are perhaps most prevalent in the literal, physical structures of the built environment. These include obvious obstacles, like steps, but they also include something that most people have the privilege not to think about - toilets. On the first day of UKDHM, I shared the picture which now accompanies this blog post to Instagram, along with some words on my relief at having more choice about which loos I use after a decade of having to be very selective.

You can read that full post here (it's shorter and less rambly than this one, and describes the image). The essence, though, is that I now have a luxury of choice that many people do not - because the loos we call 'accessible' are not really. If you need a hoist or a bench to get changed, you often have to miss out on longer stints of socialising in public because there aren't facilities. This is unfair and undignified. The right to go to the loo (however you need to) in comfort and safety is exactly that - a right - but for many people it feels like the luxury I describe both above and in my Instagram post.

It shouldn't.

That's why, in the UK, we have a campaign called #ChangingPlaces to lobby public spaces and shops to provide better facilities for disabled people and their families. That campaign, and a new petition launched last Sunday, inspired my sonnet today. Not only is it IDPD, it's also the festive season, and  many people can't make the most of that because they worry about needing the loo. So the petition asks all the major supermarkets (including Waitrose, which is linked to John Lewis) to commit to providing more facilities.

I'm sure many people find this little poetic project of mine amusing and frivolous - but hopefully today's entry will persuade you otherwise, and you'll sign the petition here.

If you could, it'd mean a lot. I don't even mind if you read my sonnet below, but here it is (with the promise that tomorrow's post will be shorter. Typing takes a lot of energy that I need to save for my PhD).

Love and spoons - and happy IDDP 2017!

Jx

3^rd December 2017

Today is IDDP 17

(a worldwide day around disabled people)

and therefore, in my sonnet, I am keen

to write about why we, too, should be equal.

It’s also known as IDPWD,

in language that is termed as person-first –

I use the latter phrase (just personally)

but understand why many think it’s worse.

For we must work to break the social structures

which cause discrimination and distress.

Stop using minds and bodies as a rupture:

we are all worthy, no-one more or less.

My body causes issues, that is true;

But more disabling? No access to loos! 

#SeasonalSonnets 2017: 2nd Dec

Hello my lovely readers

Sonnet number two for you! Another one which was not written before, but penned in a break from thesis work - and therefore filled with thoughts very apposite to the title of my blog. It's essentially about what it means (and has meant) to be Wordy and Wheely...

Love and spoons

Jx

2^nd December 2017

Today I ponder what my body means

whilst briefly paused from writing up my thesis;

it rarely feels my own except in dreams

so words, not workouts, have been my releases.

Eleven long years, now, have shortly passed

since comfort sat well with me exercising;

but physio’s a joy again, at last –

regaining “lost” ability’s exciting!

My muscles surely still have far to go

(much atrophy, from hurt, they must recover).

I’m merely pleased to test what I can do;

not bothered if the pace is fast or slower.

For dissipating pain has let me find

a place outside the “haven” of my mind.

Copyright Jessi Parrott December 2017

 

#SeasonalSonnets 2017: 1st Dec

Hello my lovely readers

I'm back, with a short post, a poem and a picture - because it's #SeasonalSonnets time again. I wasn't going to do it this year, out of self-care, but I've actually been writing poetry for self-care...so I thought I might as well. This first one isn't one I'd already written, but a lot of the rest will be.

It's about what has changed in the year since I started this series, my excitement for the year to follow this one, and it allows me to say, after a very long while, I'll be back again soon; tomorrow!

Love and spoons

Jx

1^st December 2017

This sonnet marks the start of a new tranche

of poems to explore the winter season

and all the ways this year has let me branch

beyond the bounds of either rhyme or reason.

Last year, I wrote of hope for a December

I’d not been gifted with for a decade.

This year, I can do more than just remember

the things I did at that much younger age.

That’s not to say the months between were perfect

(in fact they have been filled with loss and grief)

but, as some old emotions have resurfaced,

I’ve found that they’ve brought with them self-belief.

Through tackling them, my body’s in less pain;

now I can plan adventures once again.

Copyright Jessi Parrott December 2017

 

Briefly back for my birthday

Hello my lovely readers

I am briefly back to the blogosphere, for reasons you will probably guess from the title of this post, which happens to be my hundred-and-thirteenth. Therefore, without further ado (except a content note for discussion of grief and mourning):

Today is my twenty-sixth birthday. Twenty-six years more than my premature infant self was meant to be able to be alive on this earth, and nearly sixteen years since I learnt truly to value that vitality through the lesson of the loss of darling Gemma - the first of the sixteen special souls to whom I have said goodbye in the time since then. It also marks exactly six months since Shane left us, not quite three weeks since Ania slipped away, and the blur in between them and when we gathered in gratitude for Helen and Jackie. On a more macro level, of course, it is the second anniversary of the Paris attacks and (somewhat paradoxically) World Kindness Day. 

All of these coincidences remind me that, if there are things the combined physical progress and emotional upheaval of my twenty-sixth year has taught me, they are that sadness can sit side by side with joy - and that a sense of your own and others' mortality can be both a shadow and a spur to make the most of the time you’ve been granted. The pain felt in the absence of precious people is in itself a testament to the strength of the ties which tethered us together, and I for one would far rather have the happy memories alongside the grief than not have had those moments at all. Life is too short not to laugh and to love. Moreover, both those things can (must) include learning to be as kind to yourself as you strive to be to others, and acknowledging that you are also allowed to reach out for support. It doesn’t take away the hurt, but it makes it easier to bear - and you might just find, by sharing your sorrows, that you help someone else to heal too.

So, with that in mind, consider this post a thank-you note for the best presents of all, my wonderful friends and family, both those whose brilliant, beautiful bundles of molecules are bouncing around in the atmosphere and those still physically here. You are what keeps me afloat, and I am so very lucky to have you.

I'm not sure when I'll next write again (you have my eternal gratitude for your understanding about that as well), so for now, be kind to yourselves. And, if you need to, talk. It's hard, but it helps.

Love and hugs - and a picture of the blurry beginnings of this morning's stunning sunrise:

Jx