The thing is … lately I feel like I’ve been ‘wrapping things up’.
Letting those who mean something to me know it.
Giving back treasured memories of the past to the people they belong to.
My writing has not been good lately.
I know it.
My positive attitude has taken a turn.
I know this too.
I know it – and don’t have the energy to change it.
I’ve reached emotional, physical and mental exhaustion.
Someone received an arrangement at work a couple of weeks ago – and I became caretaker.
The vase was bursting with vibrant color and fresh cut blooms.
As they faded and withered, I removed them.
One by one.
I kept doing this – refusing to throw them all out because some part of the whole had passed on.
It came down to one stemless flower this past week.
I found the smallest container I could, and placed it gently in the water.
I couldn’t find it in my heart to throw it out while it still had some life in it.
While it still looked so beautiful.
It wasn’t finished.
Contrary to this, I found my pen writing the most obscene sentence in my own diary last week.
That I had been having fleeting thoughts of death.
Thinking that perhaps all that I was here to do had been done – and all that I hoped for might never be.
Perhaps not meant to be.
And that ink bled out onto the page with such rawness and so bravely – that I allowed the pen to finish the sentence.
And I’m not ashamed.
Because thinking of things does not make them so.
And because allowing myself to admit something so dark, even to the pages of a book no one will read – shocked me necessarily.
I find the smallest light I can find – and gently place myself in it.
I give my soul water – salty – and shed when I am alone.
I continue to share my memories with those who made them with me.
I don’t stop telling people how important they are – how loved.
And I steady myself for what the future might hold – and know that I’m strong.
Filled with moments I’ve learned to treasure
and to stay in as long as I could
I’ve laughed with my whole heart
lingered there until the last exhale
I learned to cry
to release – but not to wallow
let tears fall … tasted them on my lips
the salt remembered.
Felt with each tick of the clock, page of the calendar
urgency to live
My brushes have been wet with color – hands covered with clay
My fingers typed so many words!
some that made a difference
many that did not.
My arms have circled family
felt the warmth of what is truly valuable.
I’ve tasted such wondrous things!
Felt my soul soar to crescendo with arias and duets in my ears
Read books I could not put down
been shown new worlds
I mourned their completion.
I’ve been enchanted by new love
watched my son fall into it
… for the first time
waves of emotion ebbed and flowed – the mother in me releasing her grasp …
(but never letting go)
I’m allowing hope to spread its wings
bracing myself to be brave
to let change
to let love
to let God
I celebrate with my heart this New Years Eve
not with clinking glass
I celebrate all that was
all that was not
all that will be
I celebrate the student I’ve become
and the mystery that’s me.
I spent last night with a few tears – and like a child in need of comfort, I also grabbed a blanket and my bear.
Yesterday brought joy and sadness, love and aloneness, hope and fear. And sometimes, it’s all just too much to process.
It wasn’t due to any one thing in particular – things build over time to overflowing and when there is no outlet – blanket and bear come into play.
I joke about saying too much – about not editing myself. But the fact is, I keep so much inside that it hurts sometimes.
You know when someone notices that you’re out of sorts and hugs you? That dam that bursts because of that hug?
I feel like life (and, yes, me too) constantly plugs up my dam with no relief in sight.
When I desperately need a hug.
And to be heard.
I posted this on my Facebook wall this afternoon – after a day of feeling unwell physically, but mostly overwhelmed emotionally.
I did this because I felt safe putting it there, I am very selective about who my ‘friends’ are on Facebook. People that know me and ‘get me’ are privy to my mostly quirky, sometimes funny and often odd status updates.
I don’t have friends I don’t trust.
What I really wanted to do was write about it here though. So I’m going to.
I have a lot on my plate and on my mind. A lot weighing on my heart also.
I find it necessary, again, to reiterate that I am a happy person – and a grateful person – and a loving person. And I know what is important in life.
But I am also a human person.
I used to think it was not okay to permit myself to feel my sadness. That I was somehow being ungrateful by doing that.
I know not to wallow in it – not to become melancholic – but it is necessary to feel. Denying myself permission to acknowledge sadness or fears is not healthy. And there is no growth when one does not acknowledge, assess and address a feeling or emotion.
Still, lately I’ve pent everything up. Putting one foot in front of the other and plugging away at life, while I tackled real and imagined problems alone.
The soul has this amazing ability to take a lot of crap from us – but has its limit. I reached mine.
Then I came home to mail.
Not just an envelope either – a small package.
It was from a dear friend in California (she actually taught me how to do what I do for a living over 14 years ago!)
Inside – was this letter, the sweet pencil and a bag of Halloween candy:
Here I was questioning whether I am worthy of love – and I receive this sweet, sweet gift. That she knows me so well – that something reminded her of me – that she made the effort to go the extra mile and purchase the item and tell me that she thought of me … such love.
And to want to feel connected to me.
What a blessing to have such friends.
I’ll take the pencil to work with me tomorrow and put it somewhere I can look at it as a reminder.
And because it touched me so – my heart can’t possibly be in a catabolic state. It’s still capable of processing love.
It’s just scared.