Thursday, May 31, 2012

Soaking My Feet

The steep and rocky path
forced a pebble in my shoe.
I ignored the annoyance
as it rubbed blisters into calluses.
Now, standing at a flat crest,
I can no longer bear the pain and
finally sit still
to remove the pebble – 
reaching for my sharpest blade
to whittle away dead skin.

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Slowing the spin of self-denigration...

It has been well over a month since I have touched these keys with intention beyond the shallow surface of all that is mundane... Disappointed in myself - feeling less than capable, less than worthy of anything other than wading through the muck of daily survival - I've finally looked at the eyes in the mirror and called out the monster for what it is: Depression. It is so much easier to paint a smile and focus on "what needs to be done" than to simply stop and acknowledge the weariness I have felt for some time now. In the midst of crisis, I act... I do... I fix all that I can. It is when the crisis is over that I fall apart -- when I allow that for myself.

With Greg's improved vision and the promise of our first trip to Cape May in over three years, with a fist full of baseball tickets, movie tickets, and a little extra cash to go out to dinner now and then, with some sunshine and a garden that actually looks like a garden in the front, side and rear of my home, life has become a quite a bit brighter... and in the face of this joy my lurking shadows have lunged at my self-esteem. Without allowing myself to grieve for all that I have been missing, it has became difficult to accept those gifts now that they have returned. I've shoved down the hurt out of the fear of upsetting others and, without acknowledging the depths of my pain and disappointment, I've deprived the flowers of my soul much needed rain.

Please forgive the romantic metaphor. I don't mean to be overtly dramatic. I have needed to cry out without judging myself to be selfish, weak, foolish, and inadequate. Now, with tears smudging the time on this computer screen, I'm grateful for no longer caring that it is getting late and the pragmatist within is screaming at me to go to bed so I can get up early for another day of work. It is long past time that I allow myself to fall apart and so, I am grateful for this space where I can finally permit myself to scream... grieve... and release. My poetry waits just behind the tips of my fingers... I have only to stop spinning to find myself centered and writing again.

I thank all that is holy and good for Greg, for Milo, for honesty and love and the support of all who never stop caring. Thank you. May we all finally find a gentle night's rest...