(Note: It won’t matter what your goals are if your fear of others, is greater than your faith in yourself. Trust your intuition/feminine.)

I’m writing because I have something to express that is of importance to me. It may be moving to you, it may not. But I owe MORE to the blank page awaiting my ink drops, than to strangers who I may never meet, or who don’t have any real stake in my feelings.
My own-self understands that whatever I write could have been done better, but I don’t live life in ‘could have’. I choose to live, and write, for better or worse, in ‘I did it’.
Ultimately my words are my own. Their excellence and/or failure, mine. What I express today, it’s greatness, may mean little to me tomorrow. But that’s not the point. Every letter, like every drop of rain, is required in some way by all of us.
For myself, I don’t judge a rainstorms importance by how many drops fall from the sky and if they all got to the roots of the plants that require watering.
My words are the unsealed storm. It may be quiet like a soft springs drizzle, or storm in thundering downpour. They may drown you or lift you up. And I understands, a verse that upsets one, can just as easily enlighten another.
My job is to write with my truth and passion, not judge. To trust the flow of my pen, not the stagnation of streams. And that’s a writers job–pushing the pen on blank pages and creating sentences that connect what I feel into ideals of what I seek to express. It starts there. It may end there. But what I write can never be completely ignored or discarded, because it was seen, felt, and expressed through me—as human being who is a part of a humanity that yearns to express itself through those who create its stories.

Letters are just letters, until someone arranges them into words, and forms them into sentences through their feelings, and into stories. Each and every time I do that, with integrity and fearless-feeling, I am a true writer. And what you feel about my words is up to you. Because that part of the writing is about the reader, not me. My job is creation, the Feminine, not self-judgement.
So I end as I began: I’m writing because I have something to express that is of importance to me. And when I’m done writing it, the rest will be up to you . . .

and I’m all write with that.

FEAR NOTHING

ERIC SANDER KINGSTON
wishonwisdom.com

“Give yourself permission to write.” Barbara Kingsolver

One novel to write the wrongs
Of a society that says I don’t belong
Where a woman neither mother nor wife
Is looked down on for living an unfulfilled life,
Berated and branded a broken soul
In need of someone’s other half to make her whole

One novel to break the contract
Of a creator’s falsely progressive act
Representation dangled in a cruel game
To be yanked away, pawned for money and fame
The rallying cry of my lived reality
Silenced by the masses’ romantic mentality

One novel as an act of resistance
Of lust and romance as the root of existence
A story to leave the stereotypes upended
A forgotten identity lovingly represented
Born from the ashes of what might’ve been
That the marginalized may rise again

One novel before the year is out
One novel, and this my vow
To defend a group cast out and betrayed
To keep to my goal and never stray
Weaving a narrative authentically told
My voice never packaged and sold

Growing
and
Withholding.
Knowing,
The anger was always sadness
A different emotion to replace my previous sorrowful state
Now, I’ve let the anger go
But it was mine for so long
I forgot what the sadness was like
The one who truly knows me
Reunited.
Within a shaky embrace
Wide and weak eyes
Reminding me
I’m not tough and I’m not mean
But why can I still not remember?
Why is it hard to speak only on occasion?
I’m scared.
Why can’t I remember?
Was I scared?
I can’t remember
I wonder if you do
If you remember the fear reflected in my sick gaze
Do you know what’s wrong?
I –
Forgot to water my plants again
Years of growth
Then the year of death
Granted with more time
Rebirth
You asked, “I thought you wanted to die?”
I can’t remember.
But through my rebirth I will remember it all
I will heal from it all

Goals – “The object of a person’s ambition or effort; an aim or desired result.”

Beginning in grade school, as we return to the schoolhouse once again, dragging ourselves into our respective classrooms, the routine of asking, “What are your New Year’s resolutions?” is all too familiar. And, you know, the question never stops. It does, however, change in the way it is posed and, possibly, in how we answer. This year’s adult iteration is, “Write a poem or letter about your goals for 2025.”

Frankly, the very thought of being required to employ brainpower to plan further than my next oil change, tomorrow, if you were asking, frightens me to my innermost core. To be more specific, goal setting is a process that fills me with so much anxiety and dread that I find myself craving the comfort of a 5150. Too much? You know what? You’re right. Back to the topic at hand, as I’ve digressed.

Since I’ve made it to this side of 30, my New Year’s goals have been much simpler, making them more easily attainable. That said, my only goal for 2025 is to wake up and live. I know, I know. Cliché, right? Yes, but all I can seem to commit to is waking up each day and giving that day all I have—which isn’t even enough to partially fill a thimble. My only goal is to wake up and try.

Try to make it at work.
Try to show up for my friends and family.
Try to show up for my beautiful and precocious godson.
And try to live.

The world is burning. If you’re paying attention, you know it’s always burning, to be honest. Groceries are expensive. They are attempting to criminalize the unhoused. Eggs and the cheapest bottle of tequila are equal in shelf life and price. And through all of that, all I can do is put forth the bulk of my energy to waking up, then trying.

Awoken to Bloom

A persistent itch skims on the border of my tongue—

It has been there for several years.

Occasionally, a drip occurs,

and suddenly, flood fantasies fulfill my head.

I am loud, like the rush waves,

YET

I never embody the movement of salsa,
for fear of becoming a tsunami.

Perspiration flirts with the air,

mocking this California drought.

Have others already discovered the beauty of a hose?

It confuses me to see grass,
when all I have ever known is dirt.

I am grand, like an overused bouquet of apology flowers,

YET

I shy from all platforms,
As I’m surrounded by the lushness of the Pasadena Rose Parade.

I crave this hydration more now—

though I don’t know how,

or who to ask,

to open the faucet.

Did others already know this tool existed,

or were they suffering alongside me without it?

Illustrative and dreamily,
I walk through life,

YET
my canvases are kept in darkness,

for fear they won’t match the visions in my mind.

Suddenly—

waterboarded.

Outsiders would call it cruel.

But those who’ve tasted awoken slumber,

solely seeking the serotonin of saliva,

know the depths of real torture.

YET

with this whiplash,

I am awoken to find healing.

As this year my conquests will bloom,

likely a garden, something beautiful to breathe in.

At the stroke of midnight
I promise, this year to do right
I will commit to discipline 
Remember, sugar is a sin

This year I will lose 15 pounds
I’ll pass on the second round
Spend more time with family and friends
Will you get another day after this one ends?

I will budget better 
No, I don’t need a new sweater
I will sing, dance, and laugh,
Until I get a charley horse in my calf

Taking the optimism route
No self-doubt 
Try something new
Make a dollar or two

Sell my pasta salad
Hopefully, it’s a hit on somebody’s palate
I may even go to church
Getting up early on Sunday won’t hurt

This year, I’m all about improving and growth
And on that note, 
Wishing you all success in every goal
And happiness to your soul

All the world is scrambling,

Picking up pieces of itself as though

Hit by a freight train.

Empires imploding, nature running a fever,

The love and trust of many

Growing cold.

The panacea of distractions,

If only to turn the mind off briefly,

Only do so much when

Everything else burns to ash.

–

Those not living in fear for being different,

For having the nerve to exist,

Are probably paying in life savings 

For breathing at the wrong moment.

Maybe awaiting a hurricane

Or ghouls with guns

To further erode life’s fragile foundations.

All of this and more

Brought in part by

Conquest, war, pestilence and death.

–

In any case,

Time marches forward.

A smattering of polycrises forcing

One and all

To make difficult decisions for tomorrow.

Knowing not what it brings.

Between heavy sighs and restless nights,

All making a choice, however heavy,

To survive another day.

Even if it means just existing.

–

I sit in the apricity of a winter sun,

My dog carelessly crunching on acorns

While I write my intentions for

The next sun cycle.

The night is relatively quiet,

Lulled by evening hustle bustle.

The threat of the shrouding dark cloud,

Darkness falling,

Juxtaposed by quiet sunlit contentment

And the fervor of daily life.

–

An unspoken understanding

Underlies all

Between the jubilation and the solitude.

Distrust between men,

Panicked fears of revelation,

And desires to live more fully in moments

All tie down to

The resolve to survive.

A primal instinct to weave through the

Trappings of unrest and complacency.

–

That, at least for now, is my resolution,

As this grand ship takes her plunge.

The sun arises with dreams & goals
A routine created – a delicate plan
Boom…suddenly the sun is setting
Repeating …I know I can
Persistence & Another Day

Everyday a bit more gets done
Frustrated progress is not faster
Uttering Patience…it will unfold
Embracing silent meditation
Listening deeply to my soul

The sun arises with dreams & goals
A routine created – a delicate plan
Boom…suddenly the sun is setting
Repeating …I know I can
Persistence & Another Day

Starting again from scratch
A fresh canvas & creative goals
Releasing the accumulated stuff
Freeing myself from this …
Possession prison

The sun arises with dreams & goals
A routine created – a delicate plan
Boom…suddenly the sun is setting
Repeating …I know I can
Persistence & Another Day

A sloth in slow motion
No end in sight, but suddenly…
Faith is restored on the journey
Accomplishing goals, baby steps
Slowly CAN accomplish more

The sun arises with dreams & goals
A routine created – a delicate plan
Boom…suddenly the sun is setting
Repeating …I know I can
Persistence & Another Day

My goals are monumental
Referred to as fantasy by some
Relying on faith and imagination
Helping humanity grow
Finding the true me in the process

The sun arises with dreams & goals
A routine created – a delicate plan
Boom…suddenly the sun is setting
Repeating …I know I can
Persistence & Another Day

Many years now on this journey
Dedicated to reaching goals
This is the year to shed it all
To build a solid foundation
Envision a humanity to be proud of

The sun arises with dreams & goals
A routine created – a delicate plan
Boom…suddenly the sun is setting
Repeating …I know I can
Persistence & Another Day

This is a 9 year, the sign of release
The year of the Wood Snake too
Significant with shedding it all
Go for the gusto and let go
Everything is telling us to do so

The sun arises with dreams & goals
A routine created – a delicate plan
Boom…suddenly the sun is setting
Repeating …I know I can
Persistence & Another Day

Next year it is a ONE
Signifying new beginnings
A fresh start to dream & discover
Focus now on really letting go
Make room for dreams to manifest

The sun arises with dreams & goals
A routine created – a delicate plan
Boom…suddenly the sun is setting
Repeating …I know I can
Persistence & Another Day

Afraid to speak my thoughts
Afraid to be who I am
Ridiculous in all reality
To let others hold you back
This is the year to let the fear go

The sun arises with dreams & goals
A routine created – a delicate plan
Boom…suddenly the sun is setting
Repeating …I know I can
Persistence & Another Day

My goal this year begins with clearing
Preparing for greatness to come.
A lightworker, a healer, a magician of love
Sent to help the world transform
Let my message be heard, that is my goal

The sun arises with dreams & goals
A routine created – a delicate plan
Boom…suddenly the sun is setting
Repeating …I know I can
Persistence & Another Day

the sky feels like a reel unwinding,
a hand turning the crank, frame by frame.
i ask it to pause, to let me see where the light falls next.

somewhere, a house waits for us to arrive.
its walls hum with the sound of our voices,
its windows blink open like eyes adjusting to sun.

but first, i build a scaffold of hours.
i carve out the future with each paycheck,
each line on the page another brick in our home.

we will touch the light, frame by frame.
you will hold my hand in the doorway,
and we will call this place ours.

Weeks one and two didn’t count. I can do better.
I will do better.
I will be inspired by the love in my home.
I will start 2025 tomorrow.
I have two kittens. They are brothers.
They keep me up most nights.
In the morning, I will wake up grateful.
I will avoid the urge to ask the universe for 5 more minutes.
I will get up and get dressed. I will do school drop-offs. I will go to work. I will smile.
But before I begin the day’s tasks,
I will watch fondly as my sleepy kitties climb into my warm bed.
They will do a little kitty dance as they snuggle into a furry twisted pretzel.
They are so cute.
I will avoid the urge to get another.
I will read a book. A real book.
Not a cute one with rhymes and pictures.
One with pages that have “that” smell.
My bookshelves are lined with books like that, and I promised each one that I would be back.
I haven’t been back.
I will avoid the urge to collect more things that I cannot commit to.
I will make time to get lost in a story.
I will go on adventures with my mind and make up for the ones I have missed with my body.
My body.
I will love my body. No. I will fall madly in love with my body, with myself.
I will heal. I will heal my soul. I will heal my children.
My children.
Wild and tenacious. They are relentless.
Full of kindness, wonder, and good.
And goldfish crackers.
I take that back. They never get full. They always want more.
I will give them more.
More giggles, more games, more time, more love, more food.
I will pay more attention. I will watch them. I will observe.
Laughing, fighting, playing, and messing.
Chaos.
But I WILL NOT YELL. My mother yelled. I am not my mother.
I will help them clean up their messes, I will make their bed, I will tuck them in.
I will read them one of those cute books with rhymes and pictures.
Three if they ask.
I will join them for a snuggle until they are peacefully sleeping.
They are perfect.
I will avoid the urge to have another.
I will try to fill the next Thirty-One Million Two Hundred and Forty Thousand Seconds of our time with love.
With goodness and wholeness. With warmth.
I will appreciate the madness that is my life.
That I have created.
And if for a moment, under all the pressure, I lose sight of that,
I will avoid the urge to implode.

Round and Round I go on a carousel
For years its been
Now the cycle stops
Where there is room for mountains to grow
New opportunities to arise
For new ways for everything
Making new friends
Meeting new people
Starting from the same roots
But different colors and petals
Most importantly setting boundaries
with the people that mean the most
Positivity for the mind and soul
For the strength the waves give you
Pushing you until there is no more
Not letting disappointment be at the top of the ladder

A new year upon us-two zero, two five,
I wake up refreshed, feeling sharp and alive.
What are my hopes and my dreams for the year?
Goals, aspirations, in all I hold dear.

Pen in hand, paper waiting, ready to write,
No doubts in my mind, no ‘if’, ‘maybe’, ‘might’.
This year will be different, this year I’ll succeed,
In fulfilling my aims, follow-through with the deed.

Arise early each morn, a smile on my face,
Greet my hubby with coffee and a loving embrace.
Our union prevails, my soulmate for life,
I’ll pay more attention, eliminate strife.

Tackle my chores with a positive mien,
Approach them with purpose, keep everything clean.
Purging and tidying, structure to all,
Things in their places, the big and the small.

Reign in on the hoarding, collecting, and such,
Shoes, books, and trinkets, too many, too much.
Curb my impulsive purchasing way,
Consider the need before I hit ‘pay’.

I’ll watch what I eat, keep it healthy and smart,
Limit the food that’s not good for my heart.
Drink more water, lay off of the booze,
Exercise daily, a few pounds to lose.

Cut out the cookies, the donuts, the chips,
They all can attest to the growth of my hips.
Self-control is the answer, I’ll do it, I will,
When my tummy is growlie, with veggies I’ll fill.

Try out some yoga, for body and mind,
Meditation and stretching to help me unwind.
Daily walks in the park with my pooches in tow,
Content tails wagging, eyes all aglow.

Appreciate nature, the stars in the sky,
The wind in the trees, the birds as they fly.
The crispness of winter, the promise of spring,
Summer sun urging plants, autumn harvest to bring.

Treat others with kindness, all judgement forsake,
Talk less, listen more, be real, not fake.
Be true to myself, identity strong,
Don’t believe those who tell me I’m wrong.

Now last, but not least, my family, my kin,
Cherish old memories, new ones begin.
Spend more time together, share stories and dreams,
Both laughter and worries, minute or extreme.

I’ll follow the map of the goals I’ve laid out,
I’m determined and focused, know what it’s about.
It’s me, but I’m better, if I stick to my trail,
The challenge is real, I know I won’t fail.

Dear forgetfulness,

I would say I’m a very sentimental person. I’ve tried squeezing the goodness from every moment. I morph into a sponge, soaking up each bit and particle of every lasting minute. I let the sweetness of the presence simmer on my tongue. I bask in the luxury of the present until it’s gone and turns into a memory. Inside jokes, casual conversations, and simple smiles are likely forgotten by others, but they are things I preserve.

My life hasn’t always been worth savoring, and sometimes as I live in the present, I try to fast forward through time. Reliving the fond memories I’ve made gets me through the hard times.

Life moves in the motion of frequency waves; sometimes I hit the trough. I reminisce on the times I had, clinging onto them with the entirety of my willpower. I fantasize about the past, begging the universe to make my memories tangible and allow my existence in them once again. To meet with that person once again. Relive that happiness. Feel as powerful as I once was.

To forget every memory I have is my greatest fear.

Humans aren’t born the person they are today, or at least that’s my opinion. Yes, you may be born with a personality, or your brain’s wiring may be predetermined at birth. But the experiences an individual has and the memories they create also mold them into the sculpture of their being. As humans experience life, they attach a fragment of every experience onto themselves and create a shell around them that other humans see and interact with. Is the shell who I am, or is it concealing my true being? I think that both apply to me, although I might be wrong. But I know one thing, it’s that the shell is a collection of experiences I have undergone, the good and the ugly.

Perhaps this is why I am fearful of forgetting– who would I be without my memories? How could I seek comfort if I had nothing to look back on?

Total amnesia terrifies me. I see it all the time in movies, when the main character wakes up from a coma and doesn’t know the first thing about themselves. It frightens me to one day wake up and to forget all the people I’ve met, all the things I’ve done and accomplished. Although this scenario isn’t realistic or likely, it is possible and the “what-if” of it all haunts me, because I cherish memories the same way I cherished my teddy bear when I was a child. I hold on to them and I hope I never outgrow them.

What brings me comfort is knowing that even if I forget my memories, I will still be remembered by others. I have to learn to accept that I cannot control forgetting, but if I forget an experience, it will still live in the mind of someone else. And maybe, hopefully, that person holds onto the memory as tightly as I do.

Chloe S.

Style Score: 87%

Another turn around the sun has begun
And I must greet it with gratitude and ambition.
Can I make my fortieth round worthwhile?
With enough effort, luck, and gumption… perhaps.

First, I’ll quit the habit
Of sucking toxins into my lungs,
The smoke so unappealing
To my dear loved ones.

Second, I’ll sleep soundly,
So as to follow the sun,
Arising in the dewy dawn
And dreaming under the moon.

Third, I’ll train my brain
To stay sane and focus,
Focus on the words of each page,
One after another until I’ve completed a book.

Fourth, I will grab that pay,
Earned fairly and duly with grit,
In a position only I could play
For my gifts will finally be seen.

Lastly, I’ll return to the wilds,
With all my needs on my back,
Traversing mountains and rivers,
Curling down nightly into the earth.

Imagine what could be with these goals achieved.
All the good – and not just for me.
A stronger body and a stronger mind
Will contribute endless gifts to society.

promises and good intentions,
all made in wintertime
will find the spring, then
summer heat,
and autumn’s cooling breeze
then wintertime and promises
that either came to stay or
faded when the gold June moon
seemed tethered tight
and goals had half a year
to come to stay in place

so just this year…

I will set aside the rules and lists
of what I need to do, and
will instead allow the things
I want to do to take their
place in hours where chores
have had their way with me
for decades past their usefulness
I hope to celebrate the days I live
and not what I accomplish
for when I’m gone, who will care that
my laundry was always done?

Dear Unsealers,
An acrostic poem about my goals for 2025.

Looking ahead to this next year
I strive to be more present and
Value and appreciate the good, the bad, and the mundane
Each day is a new opportunity to learn and grow
I want to take more leaps, without being afraid
Not worry about what other people think, or things that have not happened
Take my time, and stop rushing from place to place
Have more fun and laugh even more
Enjoy the little things and savor…
Moments with my family, friends, and pets
Opportunities to bring joy to others, and…
More time alone, for self-care and self-reflection
Each day I hope to embrace a little change
Not stress about anything trivial and…
Truly remember that each day is a gift

Dear Unsealers….

Dreams bloom from behind the pages,
Whispers of stories through life’s stages.
Words take root, their branches spread,
Revealing dreams merely stuck in my head.
The author inside, bold and true,
A world of wonder unfolds as each new story blooms,
With words that shine and visions clear,
Inspiring hearts far and near.
From quiet corners to center stage,
I’ll write my name in history’s page.
With every step, my light will grow,
A beacon for others, the path I’ll show.
A sought-after speaker, strong and wise,
My voice will soar, inspiring countless lives.
With courage and passion brightly shown,
I’ll show the world how much I’ve grown.