Can the triggering flashbacks
of a memory
hold beauty
alongside pain
at the same time?
Tag: time
you thought you had more time
You see the first sign of a problem
emerge,
a blemish on a previously spot-free
canvas.
You tell yourself
that you should have it fixed,
addressed,
while it’s still small
before it becomes something bigger.
Time goes by
the blemish is still there
but unchanged.
You remind yourself
of the need to have it fixed.
Then
without warning
it’s no longer a blemish.
Despite your intentions
it has grown into the bigger problem
you imagined happening
but naively assumed
you had more time
because things had stayed the same for this long already.
Now, it’s undeniable,
the problem demanding your attention
engulfing the canvas.
All because
you thought you had more time
and you believed things would stay the same.
walking away from anxiety
Noticing, how
when I leave the house
ridden with anxiety
my breaths are short and shallow,
my steps quick and rigid,
resisting the urge to run and cry
at the same time,
anything to make this feeling go away.
After ten minutes
my breaths are short
but deep on the inhale,
strong and forceful on the exhale.
After twenty minutes
my breaths deepen
my stride lengthens
and I find a rhythm.
And after thirty minutes,
maybe more,
I feel the anxiety release its final talon
and fly away.
My breathing calm,
my steps easy,
I walk a bit further
to soak in this feeling
a little longer.
Let me soak in this feeling
just a little bit longer.
Life will force you to stop
I like to believe
that I have come to embody the notion
of change being the only constant
we can depend upon in this world.
As much as I, at times, resist change,
I like to believe that I have come to appreciate,
and understand, and welcome it.
And yet,
it feels near impossible to accept
how life
can change in an instant –
not just in theory, but in reality.
A few days away
was all we had asked, and hoped, for –
to escape to a different landscape,
reconnect in a change of scenery
and regroup,
for what we envisioned lay ahead of us.
One phone call came,
the vibration of which we barely heard,
and everything changed.
I could count it in days – 2 –
or hours – 50 –
between hearing the news of,
‘something doesn’t seem right’,
to when we were at the veterinary clinic,
taking away his pain forever
and saying our final goodbye.
I never knew my body to be capable
of breaking, of shattering,
of collapsing in such intense grief and pain,
the way she did that day
and yet, remaining here, to carry on.
I cried until my body became dehydrated.
My body caved in on itself to protect the gaping holes
left behind.
I talked through my feelings,
reminisced on stories and photos,
and mourned the opportunities lost.
After a while,
I tried to carry on,
thinking of what he would want for me,
but change is the constant
and I’m brought back down to the couch,
to rest and recuperate and heal my run-down body
despite my best efforts to keep going.
Eventually,
what you are running from will catch up with you.
Life will force you to stop,
sniff the smells on stop signs and bushes,
tail wagging,
and remember how important it is
to savor each moment.
We will never have ‘enough’ time,
so we need to make the time count
while we have it.
spend time with me
My inner self calls out to me
from deep within the walls of skin.
She yearns to spend time with me
for she feels ignored, forgotten,
unappreciated.
“Come spend time with me.
Let me show you who I really am
and what I need from you.
We have potential to unite as one;
we don’t need to do this alone.
I know how to access
all you’re looking for.
I know these depths within better than you,
everything is already here.
Let me be your guide.”
To see,
to know,
to understand,
is to love:
to love myself.
when the line stops
You keep meaning and meaning
to make time.
You think about it,
plan for it somewhere down the line,
but you don’t stop to think about the place
the line stops.
Eventually,
all the lines stop
and you wish to have acted differently.
light to guide me back
I lost her
I wonder where she went
why she felt the need to get away.
I have been separated from this page
it feels like an eternity
do I remember how to do this?
Extending compassion
into a space hollow and dark
offers light,
light to guide me back.
after some time away
Wading through the murky waters
of words that don’t make sense together
but I write them together anyway
hoping they can make it work
but realizing on the second read-through
that no, it doesn’t work.
Wading through the muddy waters
realizing how muddy they can get
after spending time on dry land for a while,
I cannot expect to jump right in
to the crystal clear blue lake on the first page,
or the fifth.
Trudging through the mud and the muck,
the frustrations, shame and self-doubt
squish out from underneath my boots
to float up and around me in a haze.
At least I’m getting them up and out
to meet them in the eye.
With each step, the mud recedes,
and the clarity expands.
Just keep going,
just keep writing.
this time will be different
Time and time again
I’m knocked down to my knees
by an event of immense magnitude
because all the smaller signs along the way,
I’ve missed.
Tragedy, sickness, death,
these are what it takes for me to stop,
re-evaluate my priorities,
make space to enjoy this gift of a life
I’ve been blessed to receive.
Maybe this time will be different.
Maybe this time I will carry forward
the gratitude, the presence,
the love I have found again.
I need this time to be different,
and will make it so.
thief of joy
They say comparison is the thief of joy.
I’ve seen this, felt this,
I know this.
But still,
I cannot understand
why I expose myself to robbery
time and time again.
Dawning Words 