Tonight is the season opener of Naked Angels Tuesdays@9 Chicago and I’m excited! We’ve been off since May and have had four full moons since our last show. For every full moon, I wrote a haiku.
I always give Tuesdays@9 my “all” so by the end of every season, even though I am proud and grateful, I’m also thoroughly exhausted. Here’s the haiku I wrote on the May 23 full moon:
don't howl at the moon
when she's full -- she needs quiet
give her space
But after a couple weeks of recuperating, I was ready to be vulnerable and creative again. Here’s the haiku I wrote the night of the June 21 full moon.
the moon shows herself
fully once a month
i must do the same
In July, I focused on understanding the wild yet reliable nature of creativity. I wrote this haiku on the night of the July 21 full moon.
creativity
is the moon and the moon is
creativity
That haiku is more of a mantra than a poem but at least it reminds me that my creativity — like the moon — is always there, waxing and waning, and part of something much bigger.
***
In August, I took at solo writing trip to Boston. Even though I have TSA Precheck, I was frisked at O’Hare security because the username on my phone’s flight app said “Connie” and my full name is “Constance.” As she patted me down, the agent told me, “The names have to match.”
Later, I arrived at my hotel in Boston.
“Hello. May I help you?”
“Hi! I’m here to check in. My name is Connie Kuntz.”
With absurd and short-lived glee, I slid my drivers license across the counter. I was ecstatic to be in Boston.
The concierge proceeded to look up my reservation.
With a troubled look on her face, she repeatedly looked at me, my ID and her computer screen. After a minute or two, she picked up her phone and called for backup. A woman came out from the back. As she walked to the counter, she made direct eye contact with me. I’m not sure why, but she scared the shit out of me.
Actually, I do know why. Several years ago I read Heads in Beds, a tell-all memoir about the hotel industry that convinced me that everyone in the hotel industry is a coke-head who hates their “guests.”
Anyway, when she arrived at the counter, she looked at her colleague’s computer screen, then at me, then at my ID, and finally muttered, “‘Connie’ is a nickname for ‘Constance.'”
The concierge looked at me and earnestly asked, “So what should I call you?”
I panicked and said, “Uhhhh….Constance?”
It didn’t feel right. First of all, I have successfully avoided saying “uh” for years. I was pissed at myself for breaking my “no ‘uh’ streak.” On top of that, I wanted to apologize to them and ask for forgiveness. I’ve felt silly about my name my whole life and suddenly found myself wondering why.
There’s nothing wrong with Constance but it does take up a little more space. Why is it so hard for me to make space for my own name?
On the night of the August 19 full moon, I decided it was time to fully embrace Constance so I wrote this haiku.
as the river flows
into the ocean, Connie
flows into Constance
So there you have it. Four haiku poems for the four full moons since Tuesdays@9 broke for the summer. And now you know what my plans are for tonight!
***
For the record, Constance is a work in progress. I still feel a surge of embarrassment and shame whenever someone calls me Constance but at the same time I also realize I am simply trying to flow into myself, into my truth. It’s not that radical a concept and I should have done this years ago. Right?
Thanks for reading. -Constance
Constance Kuntz 