Healing is revealing to yourself the parts of you, you saved away for another, less busy, less crazy day that never came. Healing is releasing for yourself fear, unseen obstacles; the hesitation of full participation in each moment. Healing is slow, sometimes frustratingly so, it's letting go, and getting to know what's inside of your heart. Healing is a special art.
This morning dawned a little different than before. I felt a whisper brush across me and knew that change had come. That life, if it had ever really settled, was once again to be undone. The lesson of the season had been to open up my eyes and rediscover what I'd lost as truth unraveled her disguise. What you think- you see- you feel...and it is so. Perhaps the path was hard because I could not, would not let go Of thoughts, of things, of old routines of endless lists of goals and dreams of future moments And in between... I lost the here and now. And when you live outside the present you scatter yourself somehow. So as the sun called out to me, to come and greet the day, I knew it was time to pick up the pieces and try another way.
I made a wish and blew a kiss and sent it to the stars. I wished upon some candle flames and on all the pennies in my jar. I dreamed a dream upon a flower and sent the petals floating in the wind. I wrote a hope inside a note and sent the bottle for a swim. I took a fallen eyelash and sent it flying in the breeze. I spoke my hopes to all the leaves dancing on the trees. And all those wishes and all those dreams, though they took a while, come true for me, every time you smile.
You sit upon my shoulders and try to weigh me down with muscles that tighten and make it hard to move around. You sneak into my jaw, my cheeks, my lips, my teeth sitting quietly while you stew just underneath. Then moving... You grip and squeeze my head setting fire to my mind shooting sparks inside my eyes igniting pain, leaving nothing far behind. I should have learned by now just how to conquer you, I should be on to all your tricks this isn’t something new. Maybe I’m too rushed or there’s more I need to learn about patience, calm, balance... as once again you burn setting stones upon my shoulders throbbing ache inside my jaw stabbing at my eyes and I wait for the medicine to work and the pain to finally thaw, release me, give me another turn to see if, maybe this time, my lesson I have learned.
One can be dangerous. One can be the difference between pleasure and pain, as willpower lost is hard to regain. As balance teeters and control peters out, one can sow seeds of fear and of doubt... or One can be hope filled, one can be the difference to getting closer to a dream, a tiny step forward not always felt or seen. One can change the pattern, disrupt the rhythm, break the mold; one can change the old to new and make way for fresh stories to be told. One is a possibility, a pathway, a chance. One is an opportunity, a decision, a stance. One is limiting and freeing. Take care in every 'one' encountered as they shape destinies.
One day I wont remember why, at 1 a.m., you woke me just to say hello again. To look into my eyes, to snuggle, to hold my shaky hand... I won’t remember just how small you were as you conducted all my moves with grunts and squirms and fussy cries full of attitude. I won’t remember arching my aching back or how heavy my eyelids were as the numbers on the clock flicked past and melted into a reddened blur. I won’t remember how you curled up closer and closer to me growing warmer, softer, heavier as once again you grew sleepy. I won’t remember all the details of these long and sleepless nights my memory will dim as if shutting off the lights... I know that this time is fleeting, that you’ll grow and need me no more, that there will come a day when I’d wish and I’d pray for a moment of these times from before. And I’ll remember the sleepiness, the unending effort, the uncertainties and doubt, the demand... And I’ll remember loving you, snuggling you, and holding your tiny and already growing hand.
like silken spider threads
I can see
but when I reach for it…
to keep the light
of endless searching
for the right
But so I must,
and so I do,
breaths in and out,
here and gone.
sunrises and sunsets
each unlike the other.
cycles of seasons
as impermanent as
footsteps by the ocean’s edge.
Just trying to get back in the swing of writing. (It’s been another loooong break period.) I’m rusty, I know, but maybe with practice the muses will return.
I’m having a lot of trouble, and always have, with relaxing. I always feel guilty afterwards, like there are things I could have, should have done. I’m still working on finding my balance with this.
It is a never ending battle
the two sides of myself
always at war
always wanting more.
‘Hard work, goals, ambition
That should be every day tradition.
Plan and prep and ready be
for anything we cannot see.
Nose to the grindstone,
there are things to be done.
Resting is defeat,
the way our work is soon undone.’
‘Nay, life is lived but once.
Enjoy, relax, breathe peace
take in the world at it’s best.
Put aside your list now please
take the time to look around,
the world, the smells, the sights, the sounds
loveliness here abounds.’
The two war back and forth.
Day in day out.
Guilting me in a tug of war bout,
til one side wins, temporarily,
and then the other whispers in my ear
and once again
I feel guilty.
I had heard of ‘mommy brain’ but I didn’t believe
my brain could be changed
from a lockbox to a sieve.
I had no idea that things that used to be a breeze
would sit. stuck. in. my. mind.
in a frustrating freeze.
Rhymes and ideas are now more of a struggle,
it takes time to piece them together like some kind of puzzle.
Maybe it’s simply the lack of sleep,
from all of the wonky mommy hours I now keep.
Maybe it’s the way my brain’s wired to your call,
your every breath and every need,
I wait for it all.
Or maybe it’s the way your smile makes my world spin,
how every giggle feels like a win.
Maybe my brain is just tied up in you,
preoccupied with all that you are and all that you do-
and maybe in time my two brains, the old and the new, will fuse
and I’ll have a super brain I can use.
Either way, my baby, I’m overjoyed you are here
And I’ll treasure this mommy brain year after year.
Written January 8, 2019