Monday, January 15, 2024

Real...

 Write what is real and true and tied to our experience... (M.S.)

~*~*~

I think of the Velveteen Rabbit. 
He so wanted to be real. 
And he was real to the little boy that would carry Rabbit almost everywhere Boy explored. 
Boy slept with Rabbit.
I feel sure Boy held Rabbit closely to his heart while in his night dreams. 
Rabbit sat with Boy after Boy fell ill with scarlet fever. 
Doctor said all Boy's toys needed to be burned for sanitation reasons. 
Rabbit was stuffed in a bag and put in the garden awaiting cremation. 
His heart was broken, and he shed Velveteen tears. 
But then a magic fairy appeared to Rabbit. 
Fairy transports Rabbit deep into a forest, places him with other bunnies that can hop and breathe and wiggle their ears. 
Fairy gives Rabbit a magic kiss and Rabbit's fur turns from tattered velveteen to soft, warm, rabbit fur like bunnies of the forest are clothed in. 

I have felt like the Velveteen Rabbit after he was put in the garbage bag. 
No longer needed. 
Tossed aside and eventually forgotten about. 
Broken. Tattered. Lonely. 
Without purpose, other than to make it through another day. 

Did a fairy come along and pull me up? 
If so, I could not see the fairy with my head eyes. 
But in my imagination my Insiders were born. 
Though they had probably always been with me; I was just too preoccupied with pleasing people and obeying the Word to allow my imagination to wander that far for fear of devil spirit possession.

How silly for a woman in her early 60s to have relationships with imaginary beings that live inside her. 

There is Pog who first appeared as the steward of the pond of grief; that's how he got his name, Pog. Then the pond of grief slowly transformed into the pond of gratitude. 

There is Itt, who looks like Itt from the Adams Family. 
He first appeared as anger. 
He would shiver and all his hair would shiver with him. 
When he felt rage all his hair would stand up on end, stretched as straight and far as the hairs could go. 

There is Owl who first appeared when Woman was having some gut trouble. 
With his beak, Owl carefully plucked dark pellets from woman's belly and her gut trouble eased. 

There is Troll who is gnarly with a heart of gold. 
Troll is strong and a shape shifter who helps give woman's limbs strength. 
He carries a golden sword, probably related to the Greek myth Chysaor whose mother was Medusa and father was Poseidon.

There is Martin, a golden star who used to tremble with fear. 
Pog has helped Martin to find peace. 
They both help Woman to sleep.

There are Campfire Stewards, Unicorn, Winged Fabio, Eagle and Raven. 
And two of the most beloveds of the woman, Whale and Elephant. 
And there is a giant tree where the Campfire Stewards have built treehouses.
From a different decade there is Nanna, the girl, Sally the horse, Tender the aged steward, and Giant John the gardener.

All the Insiders love to dance as Woman listens to dancing music. 

How silly for a woman in her mid 60s to count inanimates as friends, treat them kindly, talk with them and feel them talk back. 
Similar to the trees who hold her and cradle her and let her know how much they love her and how happy they are to see her. 
She has been known to break into shadow dancing, the sun behind her back as she dances with Tree. 

Truth be told, it's not silly at all...
It is survival...

*~*~

The Village, 2022
It has since grown...
.

Thursday, August 31, 2023

The Gift...

In the belly of the whale
I sit
Faint glow from a fire that does not emanate heat
It simply gives light
Enveloping this fascinating room
Like a womb
But not a womb

I sit here for comfort
I sit here to hide from the harsh elements
That have tried to consume me
Like predator for its prey
The last five weeks

I sit here for hours
Unconscious of Whale and I
Until I lie down on the table
With eyes closed
As Michele practices her gift

Then I see it
The whale room
We are floating in a warm, soft nighttime
There is a faint orange hue outside the belly
Along the horizon where dark mountains rise

I love the dark
I whisper silently
This comforts me
I feel safe in this type of darkness

Whale swims to shore
Opens her giant mouth
Extends her giant tongue
And gently drops me off onto the soft, sandy beach
Into the darkness
Still will campfire

Whale floats in the water
Shallow depths
But enough to keep her breathing properly
She is happy
She smiles

I smile
As I sit on the beach
Enveloped by this magical darkness

And then a swirl
Like that of the Milky Way
Like that of my thumbprints
Like that of the twisting ladders
Of my DNA

And then
Back on the beach
Lying down now
Resting
From the sheer exhaustion of simply being
In this body
Tormented by pain and stupor

I sit up
And see an elephant

Hmm...Is not the elephant the biggest beast on earth
Is not the whale the biggest swimmer in the sea
What does this mean

Elephants don't live on the beach
Or do they
But this one is here
On this beach

He is a gentle beast
With his trunk he sprays water over his head
And onto his back

But from where does this water come
For it isn't salty
It is fresh

Wednesday, August 16, 2023

Shorts: May 2023, One (5/01/23 - 5/15/23)

   To read an introduction and access the Shorts index, click here: Shorts: Introduction

Dedicated to all who suffer in silence...
Which isn't silent at all...
The torment is a far scream from quiet...
You are heard...
      You are not alone...
     We are not alone...


Monday, 5/01/23

Today in 17 syllables
Disorientation
Orientation
That's 20
Now 27

Lying on my belly
Hair-thin needles
Head, back, arms, hands
Legs, feet
And plum blossom

Keb sings
"Get down on your knees and pray"
I think I will, Keb


Monday, 5/01/23

Lying in bed
Gazing out window
Watching leaves
Clap and wave

I want to be recognized
I want others to know I've done things
I want to be seen

Does air want to be seen
What does air look like
Air moves things

Valance on window
Crytal hangs on fishing line
Air from vent
Causes both to dance

I felt very lonely today
But now I see
Air is my companion



Wednesday, 5/03/23

Writing without my lap desk
Balance Moleskine on thighs
Balance pen awkwardly
Between thumb and two fingers



Thursday, 5/04/23

When Son made an error
In a baseball game
Coach would say
"Shake it off"

This morning
Envisioning pain
In left thigh

It was an oval shape
Orange in color
Which then turned to creamsicle

Do I write 
17 syllables
Too tired to try

Headlamp shines on page
I close my eyes
Gently smile
Outside and in



Friday, 5/05/23

Recording thoughts
One syllable
At a time

To not be bound by them
To not be bound by the present-past
The last second has already passed

I think my Insiders are in some way
Related to my organ systems
Fascinating

Do I share about my Insiders
No, not yet
Maybe never

You have trusted healers
With whom you've shared
And they don't think you are looney

Diana, Michele, Andres, Todd
True healers
My body is the true healer

I wonder if others have Insiders
Born from making sense of the world
Of making sense in their own world

Perhaps that is one way 
That cartoonists create
Guardians 3 is out!!!

Why do I shiver
When I am not cold
Is my body shaking off toxicity
Warming me in order to receive

Close my eyes
Ask, "what do I write"
So that is what I wrote

Wrote Shorts on my phone this morning
That is so strange
That we can "write" on our phones

Is a Short a Short
If I type it on my phone
Instead of writing it in my Moleskine



Saturday, 5/06/23

Release my self from the 
Eye of scrutiny
Dive back into the 
Eye of the storm

I grok the torture
The insanity
Of sleep deprivation

It causes something
That I cannot describe 
In this moment...

It's like a fuzzy darkness
Impossible to grasp
Where the stars are not clear

Are they stars
Or are they 
Snowflakes

Whatever they are
They vibrate, staticky
Like the signals are not getting through

I see this in my brain
Not in my torso
Is the static I feel
Like that in my limbs

Decision making
Is next to impossible
Thankful my self-care tasks
Are routine



Sunday, 5/07/23

Shorts are like 
Tweets
But shorter

Shorts are just thoughts
That is all they are
Thoughts with words

Looking out 
Bedroom window
Refreshing view

Vomiting today
Weak on weak
Sick on sick

This journal has gotten 
So messy
There must be some oxen
In the stalls

Where there are messes
There is life
Be thankful for the messes



Monday, 5/08/23

How do I describe
The last 31 hours
It's felt like a month

I felt even weaker today
After I was able
To move about a bit

No wonder I can't
Totally relax
I lose function

When someone is in a coma
Someone else has to 
Move the sleeper's limbs
Otherwise, they atrophy away



Wednesday, 5/10/23

For months I've wondered
What is the point of working so hard
Just to keep my body moving

That is my full-time job
But to what end
I'm not able to serve others

Yesterday an answer came
When preparation meets opportunity
Success happens
I'm staying prepared

Hubby snores loudly
In adjacent bedroom
Where Son used to snore



Saturday, 5/13/23

The dizziness
The nausea
Please stop

Pining for life
Outside the incessant
Tasks of selfcare 

Pining for life
Beyond the incessant
Misery of symptom overload

I pant to escape this drudgery
Therein my suffering is multiplied
Desiring life to be otherwise 

Gratitude
Acceptance
Endurance
Ground me

This too shall pass
By death or
By worsening or
By freedom

I wish I could convey more clearly
The severity of my symptoms
All their repurcussions

GET ME
OUT OF 
HERE!!!!

Sleep would be
A welcome
Escape



Sunday, 5/15/23

Daughter texted today
Son called
Filled with gratitude
Is my heart

How do you feel
Grateful, so grateful
Last night I was raging

I am whole
I trust
I am love
I am

Heat on back
Headlamp on forehead
Fan breezes cool me

Comfort is
Not being
Dizzy

I breathe in the suffering
Of all the medically injured
I breathe out
Peace, comfort, strength
To all










Friday, June 16, 2023

Gratitude for windows...

I feel the pull
I give in
Staring again at the digital screen
An online community of good, good people

Carol, stop
Do not go down this path
Not for the reasons you do

Connection
Validation
Value
Worth

This screen seldom helps meet any of those needs

Needs
Yes, they are needs
But the online life can't meet them
Where you are

But, I'm humanly alone so often
And I seldom have energy to engage
It comes in bits and spurts
Engagement in 2D, in 3D, with other humans

Carol, what does meet those needs?

Nature
Though I'm more limited than previous years
And I deeply grieve that loss
And I cry
But Carol, think of all the memorable, magical wanderments
And, still they happen
Even with my limitations

Books
The kinds that have paper pages
Is it the tactile experience that helps with the intimacy
Is it the depth of what is shared
Is it the feeling of not having to respond or give it a thumbs up

Rereading
My own ponderings
Reminding me of lived experiences
Reminding me that I'm not unintelligent
Reminding me of how far I've come
Reminding me that I have gained some wisdom
Reminding me of Rilke and to love the questions

Breathing
Recalling the days when breathing was tortuous
Fluid-filled lungs
Wheezing
Struggling for the next breath
Even through my totally blocked nostrils
Carol, you can smell now
You no longer struggle to breathe
And you are still alive after decades of that struggle

Breathing
Going within
Connecting with my Insiders
Inhaling suffering of myself and others
Exhaling compassion and understanding

Music
Lifting me
Moving my heart
Acknowledging that I'm not alone
Rhythm in my body and soul
Singing aloud
Making up my own words
Singing in tongues

Prayer
But not necessarily to a supernatural being
Rather, of gratitude for this great big universe
Its beauty
Its wander
And connections I've had over the years
As people and animals come and go in my life
As I go and leave in others'

Okay, composing this little whatever-it-is
Helps
Now, get along to your next
Self-care task
With gratitude for all you've been blessed by and with
And for windows