Archive for the ‘February’ Category
Life is hard but we continue, laughter and tears intersect, flowers and food arrive, our sister arrives, order is imposed on some small segments of the chaos. Dinner with friends at a friend’s house. Celebrating and mourning, both at once, often in the same instant, the beloved who has disappeared from us all with such startling speed.
I drive down to my brother’s house with a heavy heart. Hug him, my niece, my 2 nephews. We clean the fridge to hold the arriving food, to avoid the hole in our hearts, leave the children with their grieving friends and cousins, and go over to tell our Mom. Tasks to do, services to arrange, planes to be met, flowers arriving. Life seems surreal.
Friends are the saving grace of one’s life, and mine are constantly grabbing hold of my coattails as I am about to jump off the top of a tall building or sink inexorably into the quicksand of my emotional life. Talking, laughing, sometimes drinking, sometimes pushing, often just being there, they add perspective from their more-distant vantage points, their own pathways, and their love. And we return the favor when it’s our turn. We would all surely be lost without our friends.
Perhaps it’s because, for the first time in 7 years, I didn’t go to Rio in January, so didn’t get to hit the re-start button on my winter SAD. But whatever the reason I am feeling uncomfortably pinned to my present responsibilities and unable to wiggle free from the roles superimposed on who I really am. The weight of the tasks I juggle– interior and exterior– feels exhausting and I find it hard to force myself out of my house and into the flow of the world. I am hungry for color, for milder temperatures, for a long afternoon to simply sit in my old Adirondack chair in my new backyard and finish the book I have been reading since January. But focus is not mine right now, so I soldier on, knocking down trepidations, opening my door, and setting forth to be of use.
I’m reflecting alot lately in this space. There are things to think about, but also non-things– remembrances, observations, confusions. Unraveling the strands of one’s thoughts takes time and brain space, and break-throughs usually get worked out somewhere in the depths of non-verbal thinking, the dark core we can’t control. So it does no good to be impatient. Following one’s intuition can be a bumpy ride, but the truths that pop up along the way add a private interior perspective to the exterior events of one’s public past and future. And that’s worth doing.
like running at a flock of birds
dreams scatter as I jolt awake
and cower in the shadows take
all the time you need to find words
to say what’s not yet true as herds
of nouns and vowels serenely graze
unperturbed I in morning haze
stagger downstairs needing coffee
or a new life completely free
for expectations to amaze