Pretend Real

“It comes to me upon the strings;

when I hear it will I sing?

I can’t say it’s my creation,

stay patient what it brings.

I just keep keep on believing

passing down an old, old song.”

You Can’t Rush Your Healing

by Trevor Hall

My niece taught me a concept

it’s realness comes from its meaning

within our game of pretend.

It’s not necessary for it to be real

to anyone else.

she teaches me things daily,

but always about validation.

about how meaning is made,

and where authority comes from.

about the right of two people

to author ideas,

and to question where

fantasy and reality separate,

or even if they do.

what passes for real

is a lot like what passes for trauma.

creation is a big concept.

who gave me these songs I sing,

the ones my body knows better than my name,

the ones given meaning

beyond questions of me?

when we enter play

to make sense of what’s real,

when our play is built from old, old places.

when we can’t be sure if the song in our head

belongs to us,

or should continue,

or is meaningless when played

for more than those of us

versed in pretend real.

or even those of us newly students.

when teachings are questioned,

and teachers in a position to change,

and traffic in our minds

slow in the face of brewing confusion.

the kind that quiet permits us to hear,

sounding between musical strings that

accompany occasions of silence.

filling us with beliefs in the blender,

creations like pretend real,

and other newer birthed meanings.

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Writer. Thinker. Facilitator. Advocate. Invested in accountability for power based violence, creative initiatives, and meaningful, nuanced dialoguing.

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Amanda Lindamood

Amanda Lindamood

Writer. Thinker. Facilitator. Advocate. Invested in accountability for power based violence, creative initiatives, and meaningful, nuanced dialoguing.

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