PEACE

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In that place that is not now, distracted from the present, and not knowing why, tears fall. Then fall more.

Sometimes an instinctual urge has no name or explanation. Get out. Walk. Doing will help you feel productive, not paralyzed as this new wave of unspoken needs and change take hold.  

Eventually the mind will meet the emotions and the unnamed feelings will make sense; or they won’t. Until then ride the waves and do the work needed to maintain health in all realms; emotional, mental, spiritual and physical. 

Walk, confront the negative voices, bring that dissociated mind back to what is around you now. A scent lifts me, the aroma of lilacs or lily of the valley. The cat splays out on the floor in the sun stretching her expansive furry body able to look adorable even in her sickness. Life goes on…

The feelings move through. Another day arrives, each one a new flavor. 

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WHOLENESS?

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photo by patricia

I wonder at the tattered cloth, can it ever be whole? Feelings of wholeness seep in then despair. A depth of dark and cold with no succor. The yearning for something unnamed. Resolve to have it. Then tears.

And more tears. An awakening. The present so infected by the past. Go back? Must I go back? Others say, “Be happy.” My happy is back there to that little lost girl I abandoned. I hurt, she hurts.

“Why?” she asks. “When you had college age women to explore your sexuality with. Others who were willing and your age. Why a little sister? Only a child. A little girl who looked up to you, adored you, trusted you?” And she cries as she asks.

Like a tattered cloth that needs mending, the needles pierce with every stitch. To make it whole again the wounds must be lanced and it hurts. To come to the present I must visit the past and I don’t want to. Yet the visit brings me back to the present more fully.

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TENDER HEART

photo by patricia

When hurt by those close to me in the present day, the hurt, more like a surface scratch, becomes infected by the past. It expands, deepens, and the old wound opens up bleeding causing more pain than what presently occurred. It can take days to move freely from it. It happens again and again because some wounds from the past don’t heal. Like trust, or the inability to trust.

People being human have feelings and their own stuff. Their ‘stuff’ causes them to react unkindly, insensitively and hurtfully. The instinct is to hurt back when one is hurt. Knowing this helps to move beyond another’s flaws and also can become a nod as to what needs looking at within myself.

Why did that cause tears to flow, and flow, then well up again days later? It is not what my loved one has done, but what others have done long ago. This needs attending to; careful dabbing of the wound, attentive, gentle love, a cool caressing hand to the forehead, rocking one’s tender heart lovingly in curiosity, openness and acceptance.

That is what heals… attention to what is internal with warmth, tenderness and as much care as one would offer their most loved one. Because aren’t you one?

SUNRISE & FOG

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Sunrise over the hill causing fog along the creek-line…

I have agreed to care for my new grand-son two days a week starting tomorrow until the end of June when school lets out for the summer. My daughter-in-law returns to her teaching position.

I have become stronger and healthier these last months by increasing exercise and feeding my body in a more healthy, thoughtful way. So I hope I can manage. But 7 am till 1 pm is a long stretch with a 2 month old.

Though the pursuit of health and making those patterns a regular way of life were greatly productive, I look forward to this additional way of feeling productive again. Cindy will join us too after pre-school for lunch and a short play-time. My hands and heart will be full… 

FEELINGS

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photos by patricia

Tears fell on the puzzle as my head bowed. Samuel said, “Go outside and enjoy the day!”

The tears stop. Thinking of a reply to help him understand seems futile, and instead I fervently wish for him to go so that I can have my feelings and release them. So much sadness is yet to come up, sadness’s I learned to squelch. New sadness’s need airing. Feeling feelings is a good thing Samuel.

Upon return from the vet’s I learned Molly has lost a good deal of weight. The tumor behind the eye may have progressed to the lung, or she may have hyperthyroidism. Whichever it is, she is twelve and not feeling well.

My buddy. I have not had a cat I was this close to before and I’ve had lots of cats since childhood, relating to them more closely than any other living being. Molly is more like a puppy-cat following me everywhere. And lately more so. The thought of losing her hurts.

Other sadness’s crop up especially walking the meadow. The first lap brings tears, almost sobs. I look around assuaging my fears that anyone can hear. Both neighbors are working, have your cry.

Now that Chet is dead it seems I think more about what he had done, how much damage. While alive the most I thought about him was what a pathetic life he had; I felt sorry for him and not much more. The tears come for the little girl who feels like someone else…not me.

By lap three my excitement for spring, the green grass and bursting flowers takes over and I go in for my camera. Laying in the dewy grass I snap shot after shot. It feels good to allow tears and sadness, to allow it with no one around to tell me different. It feels good and I feel good, more whole.

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TERROR

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Echoes of the past,

Reverberating from childhood,

Haunt me still…

The group of people I was born in was not a family but a place of terror. Terror and anxiety are my companions. Each day is a search for a place of peace and safety…

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The Lake

Our little creek has swollen with the rains…

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Decaf works best for me, yet spiking it with caffeine seems to make it taste better. Yesterday the spiking was too heavy and the day got away from me. No way to find the wholeness continually searched for. What could have been a peaceful day was fraught with separateness unable to enter the dwelling of my body and stay there. My mind buzzed…all from a small amount of added caffeine. 

Doing what I do best, beating myself up, I bow my head over my burning hand on the counter and wept. I wept for the stupidity of pulling the crock pot over to the sink still plugged in. The hot bean liquid splashed all over my hand. And finally wept for the bag of chips I ate the day before and wanted to confess about but couldn’t till then, “All 6 ounces Samuel. I ate the whole bag!” 

He cleans up the mess and says, “So what.” 

Holding my hand under cold water, I watch as he eats out of his bag of chips. “I love this salsa,” he says, grabbing more chips.

We had shopped together, an unusual occurrence due to my extreme impatience. I knew better than buying myself chips, albeit baked, but thought skeptically that I could eat just small amounts at a time. He grabbed his bag of tortilla chips.

“No!” I said, when he pointed to the peanut butter stuffed pretzels. I cannot have junk around. I eat it!

Going over to the table I pick up his bag and look at the ounces. 12. He had eaten half a bag, same as me, but he wasn’t smashing his face in the cement like I had been doing. 

All the talk of self-love, self-compassion, self-forgiveness…where does it go? Every time I make a mistake, or mistakes, it comes smashing down, and it stays. 

“There’s always tomorrow,” he says. 

“And I’ll make more mistakes tomorrow!” I retort. 

Yet this morning I feel calm as the sun rises warming my face through the window. This part of me that is so hard on myself is staying. I need others who help me come out from the mire when I’m stuck, and luckily I have them…

my birthday surprise from Samuel

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