Lenya Hates This Poem.

"Falling" by Patrick Phillips, from Boy. (c) University of Georgia Press,
2008.

The truth is
that I fall in love
so easily because
it's easy. It happens

a dozen times some days.
I've lived whole lives,
had children,
grown old, and died

in the arms of other women
in no more time
than it takes the 2-train
to get from City Hall

to Brooklyn,
which always brings me
back to you:
the only one

I fall in love with
at least once every day—
not because
there are no other

lovely women in the world,
but because each time,
dying in their arms
I call your name.

Lenya read this poem today in her "daily planner" and it gave her a sharp jab. She quickly skipped over the feelings of vulnerability and inadequacy that it stirred in her and decided instead to say, "I hate this poem." "Hate" is a word that Lenya doesn't like to use - her ballet teachers have tried to tell her how self-destructive it is. So she was practiced enough to look through the veil of her hatred into the little canyon of sad feelings beyond.

"Why," she asked herself, "why do we give so much in return for the most pathetic little scrap of affection? Why would we destroy ourselves trying to believe that we are getting enough, when it is not enough? You die in their arms? You call my name? How could it possibly be enough that you call my name while dying in their arms? I have also called your name every time. You could not hear me, your ears were blocked by your own voice. Perhaps, then, it is the sound of your own voice that you love."

"I hate this poem," Lenya had thought, and then she immediately felt concerned over her own hatred. She realized that even the strength and honesty of diffusing her own hatred could be turned against her. It occurred to her that one of her main motivations in diffusing her own hatred was avoiding conflict. If she was not very careful, she would use her own strength to silence herself. And because Lenya is very strong, she is quite capable of accomplishing this. "Why do we destroy ourselves trying to believe that we are getting enough? And how, "she thought, "do we convince ourselves that it is enough?" She considered this for a while.

"Emotions arise that could lead to conflict," pondered Lenya, "and then a habitual thought process begins. It usually takes the following form:

I need more from XXX.
Why do I need more from XXX? Because of my own weakness. Because I am unreasonably demanding.
Demanding is bad. Weak is bad.
How can I can be Not-Demanding-but-Accomodating and Strong? By eliminating my need.
How can I eliminate my need? By changing it into a want.
Its a want. I want more from XXX.
Well, we can't have everything we want. Get over it! If you go after everything you want, you are demanding! Demanding is bad. People who need other people to do things for them are sissies - its the worst of the feminine.
But isn't it also the worst of the feminine to sacrifice yourself so others will be happy?
Yes, but if we call it something different than sacrifice, you can get away with it.
What should I call it?
Call it...tolerance.
Call it...the deconstruction of patriarchal jealousy.
Call it...a disciplined detachment from hysterical emotions.
Call it...working on yourself, and then pick your interpretation:
"I'm working through my issues," or "I'm having some work done so I can be beautiful."
Good, now I have some tools for "improving myself" and avoiding conflict, so
I don't want more from XXX anymore.

Well that is total BS and I'm sick of it!" thought Lenya.
"I'm not doing that ANY MORE and you shouldn't either!"

Good for Lenya! I'm very proud of her.