For a few months now I have been shy to show up on theses pages. I have felt that enough is enough and that I should really snap out of the funk that has settled over me.
Patiently I wait for my mood to pass. Yet, when it does, I'd rather celebrate on a sunlit lawn than risk too much introspection.
Some mornings I wake up feeling sadness and worry rise up from my heart and solar plexus. I get impatient with myself. Enough already. Why am I creating this? Why do I always open a door through which these things can enter?
I also have flashes that right now this is me. This is where I need to love.
And then I go again. Wanting to be happy all the time. Wanting to be the kind of person who is comfortable with others and easy to love.
How to pursue a career filled with others when I long to to hide away from them? Why do people often seem to be paper cut-outs? How do I love myself when I keep on sabotaging myself? How do I make sense of the world when I want to be someone else?
I could have faith in my journey. That showing up and being present is all I need to do right now. There are no guarantees that this is the right way.
The right way might well be found on the other end of a cognitive rainbow. Yet, I am tired of pushing and shoving at myself. Hoping to be loved more once I'm perfect, when it is the imperfect me who needs love. Who deserves unconditional acceptance.
So I will gently hold the places that want to cry. That fear that I am not good enough. That I will never allow myself to fully love. That I might never fulfill my dream.
And whenever I can I will set my spirit free to roam amongst sweet smelling grasses, to follow the wind on its travels and to rest on a fat fluffy cloud.
14 comments:
Sobbing here. It's like you just wrote the words that were in my heart, but I didn't know how to say them.
You are beautiful and amazing. What a gift.
My dear sweet Hele, I am always overwhelmed at your poetry that lives inside this self-doubting wonderful you.
Please just love yourself the way you are, as imperfect as you imagine yourself to be. What is perfection? Do you think ANYONE considers him/herself perfect? Or do you think love should only be given to one who is perfect? Certainly not.
If you want a bunch of unconditional love, you get it from me. And if you want to learn more about how to change your own acception, listen to the CDs of Esther and Jerry Hicks - The Power of Emotion, or The Law of Attraction. I think everybody should know them, they are so GOOD!
the world needs YOU. not a reasonable facsimile
"So I will gently hold the places that want to cry. That fear that I am not good enough. That I will never allow myself to fully love. That I might never fulfill my dream.
And whenever I can I will set my spirit free to roam amongst sweet smelling grasses, to follow the wind on its travels and to rest on a fat fluffy cloud."
I love this.
Ah, sweet Hele - you are fine. And beautiful and giving & yes, imperfect, thankfully, because what joy would there be in perfection? There is something in the air, I think - I just posted similarly, about feeling that I am not dancing. It will pass - you are fine.
:) Debi
oh honey. you are good enough. a friend of mine recently told me, when i was having a bout of insecurity: "i feel that you are awfully hard on your self, if we weren't meant to feel the waves this planet wouldn't be so much water and moon phases - now be nice to my best friend!" sometimes, we need others to remind us that we are only human, doing the best we can. that we should treat ourselves as nicely as we treat our friends. be gentle with yourself. you are lovely and amazing in all your perfections and imperfections.
I just stumbled upon your heartfelt post, a recipient of the gift of chance encounters, and wanted to leave you with this quote from Thoreau...
"Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influences of each. Be blown by all the winds. Open all your pores and bathe in all the tides of Nature, in all her streams and oceans, at all seasons...for all Nature is doing her best each moment to make us well..."
And from me...Seasons of sorrow lead to seasons of rebirth. Breathe. Wait. It will come with perfect timing.
Inspiration is all about you___
waiting to draw
breath and words out,
for the page begs
life and ink.
I had to read it twice, slowly, taking it in, it was that lovely.
Your words are me. I just found your journal. Take care. We are on a journey. From one much further down the road then you.
Thank you for your comment on my journal. We will visit one another on paper. I think you are miles away from this One Woman who has similar thoughts. Take Care
I am so glad you are imperfect, doubting and unsure. The poetry comes from your broken edge, for which I'm deeply grateful.
FA
I am going to go and bury myself in my dogs ear and smell him deep. Then he will lick me and put his very large paw out and say give this lick to Hele.
Hele, I know so perfectly what you are going through, because it's what I have been going through for years.
I am experiencing great uncertainty right now, and until recently was very depressed.
Read my post about New Year's resolutions to hear how that turned out. Maybe it will help you.
I really, truly wish I was there with you now. We could eat eggs and tell stories and make fires and sit out in the South African night.
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