My stomach is churning.
Mostly because I ordered a decaf
and received the real thing instead.
To further aggravate things
F's mom bought a new laptop instead of paying the bond,
I received a missed call from the police about my car accident,
and I'm not sure how long I will be able to finance my studies.
I struggle to write,
a combination of not knowing how to start
and not liking what I start with.
I take a deep breath and I try to relax
around sensations of fear and insecurity.
Can I love and trust myself in the midst of my turmoil?
Can I leave the word "turmoil" on the page and move on
rather than worry about using such a overly dramatic word?
I will go outside, take fifty photos of the same tree,
and maybe my worry will dissolve along the edges
of delicate pink-green spring leaves.
I trust that each moment holds the potential
to be reborn into a world born onto itself.
If I was to write a poem to myself,
what would I ask myself about the many paths
my mind follow from moment to moment?
I would curiously inquire why
even my most lighthearted thoughts
insist on adopting a formal tone when addressing the page.
I would quickly ask
where my thoughts scuttle to
when it is time to reveal themselves.
Is it them peeping out from underneath
a heap of sweet smelling rotten leaves?
Tripling across the edge of the cloud, giggling
with relief at their timely escape from form and structure?
I will go outside,
stand underneath a cloudy spring sky,
close my eyes
and lightly ask
my words to dance around the forces of nature.
stand underneath a cloudy spring sky,
close my eyes
and lightly ask
my words to dance around the forces of nature.
I am outside.
I follow the delicate lines of leaves
and the pulsating green of spring
yet the caffeine refuses to loosen its grip on my stomach.
Four hours later I start to feel better.
I am ready to admit that I am scared.
Scared of loosing our home.
Scared of not being able to feed my dogs.
Scared of doing the wrong thing,
saying the wrong thing,
feeling the wrong thing.
Scared of misplacing my future.
Scared of not being able to feed my dogs.
Scared of doing the wrong thing,
saying the wrong thing,
feeling the wrong thing.
Scared of misplacing my future.
The scariness of life tightens the lining of my stomach.
My heart pulls back into my body.
The joy of life tightens my throat.
Its beauty implodes inwards,
spirals of gold reflect across my heart.
spirals of gold reflect across my heart.
I love the unknowable mystery of life as fiercely as I fear it.
18 comments:
wow, all i can say is that i'm so glad you're back..i missed your heart-wrenching, deep, personal, lovely, lovely postings.
this is my favorite part: "I trust that each moment holds the potential
to be reborn into a world born onto itself."
please keep taking us along on your journey....i'm certain it will all work out.
xox,
/julie
If there's anything that's certain, it's cycles. Conditions come and go.
Its good to see you back, posting again. :)
~*
This is incredible. Soft. Scared yet trusting - what a hard place to find.
Again, this is wonderful.
Oh, and thank you for the dream owl feather & all those leaves blowing kisses. You should let them send a few your way.
:) Debi
oh sweet hel, these trials, you and I are experiencing...so much the same, aren't they?
We will muddle through and in your scariest times, your sister..thousands of miles away loves you.
What a beautiful post. I feel like i found myself somewhere maybe i shouldent be. you have touched me with your lovely words and photos. You have a talent and a gift...
how can i help?
am emailing you now.
Turmoil and fear made beautiful... only you could do this.
You need a massage. I thought that looking at the photo of you in the grass.
You have so much going on right now, house, dogs, and bond? What is going on girl?
and the car. yeah. that. damn.
One step at a time. It will all work out. I have a faith in this.
Oh, you wonderful brave vulnerable person! I love this post.
FA
What comes across to me is despite the fear there is always hope. Your pictures show that, even if your heart doesn't feel it right now.
Beautiful pictures - wow!
Sorry to hear you're fretting. I, too, am a master worrier. This, too, shall pass is my favorite saying.
Happy spring to you - my the fear melt away asap!
Have trust, Hele, that is what I can tell you. Life will find a good way for you. Just let it come at its own speed. You are a wonderful, thoughtful girl. No need to worry! Be like the lily in the field, there is so much truth in that. The new day will look after itself. And we will look after you!!
"Can I love and trust myself in the midst of my turmoil?"
You can and you should. You have within you a wise, kind voice, the voice of truth. We all do, if only we take the time to listen.
Sending a hug.
beautiful hele... i know these feelings all too well. you are not alone. you will get through this. i believe the universe is looking after you even if it doesn't always feel that way. trust. and even though i don't know you... my love goes out to you across the distance, through the night.
I think the old adage, "when it rains, it pours", which ironically was used to sell salt, applies.
It never fails, the crap piles up and hits the fan all at once. Turmoil knows no sense of pacing or of meting things out.
Stupid turmoil (perfect word, I think)-
hang in there Hele!
Fear is toxic to our spirits but can also be a useful energy. Take pride in all that you've achieved thus far and believe in yourself.
Chani's right. Spring always makes me feel like small part of the beautiful cycle. The thought of spring is what gets me through the darkest parts of winter. The thought of spring helps me to enjoy the winter. But just the knowing that spring is coming is comforting. You're in the midst of spring, keep walking.
i see now...you had a car accident and the consequent issues that flow from that. of course you feel worried. poor you. i hope feeling bad for you doesn't come across as pity. it isn't what i mean. i love the images that you have chosen to use for this post hele. actually i love your style period. you capture small bits of life and leave the remainder of picture to come forth from the creative minds of each of your readers.
bless you and i hope you feel better
xo
We only own the moment. At 51 years of age, I have learned to love the simplest of things. I stroll the gardens I've created, not a big area at all, with camera in hand. Two small dogs at my feet. Capturing those simple things. Leaves in trees. The shape of an acorn. So I will remember experiencing them. So I know I celebrated the simplicity.
Brenda
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