Friday, December 31, 2021

Chaos: Into the flow...

The last half of a journal entry...
with some edits/redactions.

~*~

As I type, I feel a dissatisfaction
I feel my self wanting to physically shake it off
"It" being this feeling

What is this feeling?
Is it of neediness?
Desire of wanting to be wanted?
Desire of wanting to be special?
Desire of wanting to be beautiful?
Desire of wanting to feel beautiful and loved and appreciated and wanted and the most special person in the world?

And I feel alone...

I feel resentment...
And anger...
And I want Other to hurt...
To emotionally hurt like me....

And I wish I didn't feel this way...
And I take a deep breath...

What can I do to help myself?
How does this tie into the pain of entering my memory into that era of murkiness?
Making my way through the corridors and rooms and levels....
The meandering pathways...
Through the gardens...
Into the cellar...

How can I enter that time?
How can I hold the pain?
Honor it?
Allow it to be honest with me?
Letting me know what it is that I am afraid of...

What do I fear from the pain?
Will I discover my deepest flaws?
My own arrogance...
My own narcissism...
These parts of me that I don't want to believe were ever my motivations...

But perhaps they were...
Perhaps they still are?

My own hypocrisy, in bold...
Flashing lively colors...
Streaks...
Not peaceful or calm or harmonious like a sunset...
But loud, sharp, blazing, disturbing....
Angles, not curves...
Rigid chaos...

Not purposed, flowing chaos...
With swirls and curves and meanderings of beauty...
Chaotically organized into lush scenes... 
That lead into wonder and tranquility....

I think for 2022, I will spill words...
However disorganized they may come out....

Take the pitcher...
And pour, Carol...
Pour...


Friday, December 24, 2021

Arise again...

 Rest...
O' wearied soul...

Rest...
O' wearied body...

Ride upon the flickering flames...
Of love, warmth, light...

Arise once again...
Like the Phoenix...
With the Phoenix...

You are the Phoenix...



"But Carol..."

How can I convey
the utter fatigue?

"But, Carol, you can ride a bike.
You can drive, even at night.
You have a husband who comes home almost every night.
You are taken care of materially. 
You have so much good in your life.
Don't you see it?"

Yes, god damn it.
Of course, I see it.
But what you don't see,
and I feel you have no concept of understanding,
is the drain and the life sucking toll 
that 24/7, 365 
selfcare 
gavels.

Pound!

Mrs. Welch, your sentence is....

Every day for the rest of your breathing life, 
you must concentrate in order to function.
Winters will be extremely hard.
Not that the cold will worsen your symptoms.
But the labor of pulling on two pair of socks? 
It will drain your energy. 
Dressing will be an even more laborious task than it is in the warmer months.
You must rest and recuperate after each round of winter layers.
When you succeed, remember to give your self credit
for getting clothed. 

To whomever wants to give me an earful of their coping wisdom...
I'm so tired of hearing it.
Tired of letting your supposedly good advice roll off me.
Tired of responding with a simple, "Thank you," so as to be polite.
When inside I'm screaming,
"That is not what you say to a chronically ill person!"

I want to shake you,
wake you to my reality.
At times I think maybe I should try to explain more, try to teach about it.
But I don't have the capacity to do so.
And to what end? 
I simply don't have that energy to give.

This unsolicited advice of yours,
of what I should be thankful for,
of all the blessings in my life...
Why do you think I'm not thankful for these things?
I am.
Why do you deem it that I'm not aware of them?
I am.
Do you think I am ignorant of the deep suffering of the world?
I'm not.

Do you project into my words?
That because I express my frustration and exhaustion
that for some reason that negates the gratitude in my soul? 
It doesn't.
I don't think that way. 

Just give me some fucking space to be human.
I know how to maneuver and navigate this maze.
I've been at it a long time.
I don't want, I don't need, your words of supposed "wisdom." 

And I can't help but wonder how well you would fare
if you hobbled a mile in my sandals? 
365, 24/7...
Year after year after year after...

In response to your unsolicited suggestions,
I internally endeavor to calm my self.
I tell my self that I cannot expect you to understand.
It seems to me that if you did
you would not reply with the "Yeah, buts..."

So...fuck you. 
(Carol, now...don't say that. 
But it is how I feel at the moment.)

I'm so fucking tired of living a life of concentrated effort 
to accomplish what should be the simplest of tasks.
Sometimes I think I'd like a caregiver.
But I don't have one.
I am my own caregiver.
I just wish I'd get some cred for that sometimes.
A little praise?
A dribble here or there? 

The other week I read that if cobalt poisoning isn't addressed in its early stages,
the damages it exacts are seldom reversable.
 
I read it and thought, Well. Shit.
 
Then I thought, I'm not going to believe that. 

Cobalt leached inside me for eight years before it got corked...



Tuesday, November 30, 2021

Gnat on a sled...

I am so exhausted...
Limbs, body, brain weakened...
Muscles, hands, fingers tremble...
Soles, palms, crown tender-to-touch...

Caustic comes to mind...

That type of art...
What is it called? 

Just googled it...
Encaustic art...

I had a correct image of the art...
What's that word?
Imprint? 
Like in wax seals...

I used to have a wax seal...
I'd use it sometimes on envelopes...
Sealed with a lick...
And sometimes a kiss...
And then dripped wax with an imprint...
But I can't recall the image inside the circle...

Was it my initials?

Imprint isn't the word I'm searching for...
But it's all I have for now...

The seal left raised ridges...
And lowered dips...
In the dripped wax...
One's finger could rumble... 
Across the small impression...

Ahh, impression! 
Is that the word?
Embossed? 
Yes, embossed...
Or rather embossment...

An itty-bitty, tiny, microscopic gnat could sled...
Up and down the ridges...
Within and around that small, embossed wax disc... 

How does any of that apply to my exhaustion?
Maybe I'll come up with some sort of creative answer...

~*~

Right after I typed this poemish...
Ladybug visited...
She's been around a few days...
And has brought me smiles...
Litte-thing therapy...

It's a blurry picture...
But the blur does depict my trembles...




Friday, November 19, 2021

Filled with purpose...

Potential of the Earth...
Thoughts along the journey...

~*~

This course is bringing meaning to my life of the past ten years...
Years that often felt without purpose...
For seven of those years, I lived with a deep sense of purposelessness...
I wrote about it often...
A nothingness...

Yet, I did feel a sense of purpose through my connections with non-human animals...
Many through my pet-sitting business...
Many through my wildlife encounters...

In 2017 I wrote a blog piece which I entitled Beyond Words...
The toilet valve incident....2019
Fabio's offspringo (perhaps) at Grayson Highlands...2021

Multiple encounters with foxes and deer and raccoon and possums and crows and song birds and squirrels and insects in the back yard....
Multiple deer encounters at Muddy Creek...
Beloved ground hogs and deer along the Ararat River...
The ancient giant cliffs and rocks along the New River Trail...
The ancient New River itself...

The trees...
Nature's beloved trees...
My beloved trees...
And their lessons...
Whom I last visited on October 19th...
Every time an answered prayer...

What has been that answer this time?
The encounter with the dissociation after Unit Two of this course?
And the insight thereafter?
Will that play into my physical healing, this round?
I do not know...

Yet I have seen parallels in my two different chronic illness lives...

The asthma coincided with the stifling of my voice in The Way...
A specific decision pre-happened Asthma's onset...
I can pinpoint it...

The widespread nerve damage developed on the heels of the therapist abuse...
I felt paralyzed, numb, dumfounded after Therapist's initial gaslighting...
A specific decision pre-happened the onset...
The decision to speak up publicly...
A month later, my limbs turned to rubber...

Each chronic illness life is also connected with heavy metal toxicities...
In part, or whole, brought on by medical interventions...
I feel that somehow that is connected to the emotional and psychological...
At the very least, the metals were and are another straw on the camel's back...

I am a skeptic regarding a 'special time' in which we live...
Every pinpoint in time is special...
Eras...
Moment by moment...
Smaller than moments...

However, I do not want to throw out the prophet...
So, I listen and I consider...

I breathe and recall...

Incidents and experiences from my own life...
Encounters...
Spontaneous serendipities... 
Which seem to be the norm these days...
They may have always been...
But I didn't have the willingness to fully recognize them...
Too much static...

So thus far, this course has opened up my realization...
That these past ten years...
Have been filled with purpose...

I had understood how my pet-sitting provided a meaningful service...
But I could not understand how my Nature encounters provided service...
Until now, through this course...

The purpose of re-connecting with Earth...
Of communicating with Her...
With Her creatures in the wild...
With Her rocks and rivers... 
With Her dirt beneath my feet...
With Her plants...
With Her beloved trees...
And even with inanimates...
All of which are initially made from Earth materials...

Nature has hosted me and continues...
And I have hosted Her and continue...
Humans are a part of Nature...
And I think I might be re-learning...
How to host humans...
And to allow them to hosts me...

Deep breath...
That is all for now...


Friday, November 5, 2021

black block

i felt it last night
the pull
the descension
into the jagged black

dense
gray
black block
sharp lines 
like a jagged cityscape
with pointed buildings
tilted
bent
opaque solid
impenetrable 
razor edges

the image flashes on my brain screen
and floats in my brain goo

i observe

scrambled eggs
angst
brain mud
fatigue
floundering
flotsam

What do I need to do 
to help my self through this current?
How did I get here?

oVErLoAd
in the physical
in the mental
in the emotional
in the human relational
in the accommodational

I've gotten out of my element
A foreigner in these matters 

Carol, you've been here so many times before...

easy, easy...
settle, settle...

What do you need to do
to help your self through this current?

remember... 
you don't have to prove any thing to any one...

Thursday, October 14, 2021

Traditional Mold

A vaccine is a drug
Drugs have side effects
One needs to weigh possible benefits 
    with possible risks

But am I endangering others?
How can one have a contagious disease
    with no symptoms?
It's a weird world

How do I function within this strange society?
I pretty much don't
I feel I live in a different world
An isolation bubble that floats around
    peering into the lives of others 
        in their bubbles

I feel I've lost Friend
Friend seldom reads me anymore
Friend never initiates phone calls
When we do talk it seems Friend feels I need help 
It seems Friend tries to give me advice 
    when I ask for none
I think Friend assumes I'm unhappy or lost 
    or something

I don't cry often
I don't heartily laugh often
I used to 
    when I had more energy

Everyday I am closer to death
What the hell am I here for? 

Round 36 begins October 25, 2021...

~*~

penned 10/11/21

Thursday, October 7, 2021

Disjointed...

I feel disconnected
disjointed

Ahhh...
Is that why my physical joints are so achy? 
Due to my emotional disjointedness?
Or is the emotional due to the physical?
The dance we engage
one mirroring the other
communicating 
as I observe 
as I receive
as I navigate

The current bodily achiness has been 
moaning for four days now
it's a different ache from my norm 
arthritic 
instead of nerve-connective interruption
instead of pulsing tissue
bone and cartilage feel creaky

Bone and cartilage are less fluid than tissue
at least on the outside
but what of the inside
where atoms with nuclei
dance and collide 
shake and bounce
tremor and percuss
making music we cannot hear 
with outside ears
but we feel 
with our inside receptors

This current four-day body ache is a toxic ache
I've asked my self 
Where has it come from?

A few answers have arisen 
in my word and picture thoughts...

I ate badly while on vacation
I ate for taste bud entertainment
I wouldn't overfeed Edward the Explorer
I nurture my bicycles
washing them off
adding the proper oil to their gears
and brakes and joints
What about my vehicle-body?
Why Carol? Why?

I've pushed a lot since August
two week-long trips out of state
riding my bike, exploring
visiting human friends
loving it all
but it takes a toll...
the etymology of the word travel is travail

This current four-day body ache is a toxic ache
I've asked my self 
Where has it come from?

This recent trip I spent a week alone with Hubby
I don't want to admit the disconnection I felt 
it's not really new
but I seemed to have felt it more than I've felt in a while
but that doesn't mean I want to leave him
or that I don't love him
my husband of over 37 years
we have suffered together
we have rejoiced together
we have been one together
we have been two apart

John Lynn died a few days ago
he was well known in The Way
and was a whistleblower back in the late 1980s
I didn't know John well
but he was my Way Corps Coordinator
we did have personal interactions
all of them good
I don't know who will be next
of these past leaders in The Way

The Way shaped so much of my life
I wonder how much it continues to shape...

~*~
september, 27, 2021


Friday, September 10, 2021

Bubbles of isolation into sacredness...

I ventured out, beyond my bubble
In August, 2021
Into the 3D social realm
Of humans
But far from immersed
I simply visited, so to speak

I much prefer my bubble
Which isn't a bad thing
I read outside my bubble
Even occasionally communicate
With other human life forms
Outside my bubble
Who sometimes, it seems
Breathe a different air than I

Bubbles are probably simple-complex structures
Most can pop easily with the proper pressure
Others float so high into the atmosphere
They just disappear
When light hits the bubble just right
Prisms appear

My current bubble, at least part of it
Developed due to serious health adversities
Which began in 2011
My second round of chronicity
But with a different set of symptoms

In order to navigate
Human socialization slowly took a back seat
And I entered a type of social isolation
Away from humans
Away from communication
Of our so-many words
That endeavor to explain

Isolation has been a great teacher
Will I ever be able to put into words
Her lessons
Not that the lessons ever cease...

~*~

My bubble...
Or, at least, part of it...

From 2011 thru 2017
Much of my time was spent as a companion
With animals
Dogs and cats
Occasional tarantula and lizard and fishes
Chickens, parakeets, parrots
And a tortoise, named Speedy

In 2013, I had to back away more
From human conversation
Cognitive, neurological, functional fatigue
I entered a different world...

Deer began to often visit
In our back yard
They regularly come around now
Doe and frolicking fawns
Inspiring hope
Sometimes, they even sleep in our back yard
Once I saw a ten-point buck
Regally, with deliberation, stroll through

In 2018, a fox family
Took up residence under our deck
For a week or so

Not to mention visits from
Opossums and owls
And raccoons and squirrels and chipmunks
Crickets and katydids and cicadas
Tree frogs and fireflies
Bees and butterflies
Hawks and song birds
And oh my the crows
Who dance upon the tin roof of our shed

In 2014, I discovered I could ride a bike
Which provided temporary respite
From some of my symptoms
A purpose for my mundane life
Beyond being my own caregiver

Greenways and rail-trails became my therapy
Sightings of groundhogs in abundance
Llamas, cows, goats, sheep
River rats and snakes
Egrets and song birds and geese
Steady, stately herons
Some in flight, others resting with one leg tucked
And the occasional flasher-pose

And trail-humans
Who love the rivers and trees
And rocks and forests
And know, that therein
Is reality

I once saw a sacred, lone, black coyote
Near Mt. Mitchell

I feel sure I'm leaving some out
My apologies to those beloveds
Whom my brain has momentarily lapsed
Of their remembrance

But my cells do not forget
______





______

In the context of the current cultural "stuff"...
I've thought about sharing my thoughts on Covid, vaccines, etc....

And I've felt, I just don't have the energy to explain. But decided I'd give it a try.
 
I went to my keyboard to compose, and the above is what came out, which made me laugh out loud a couple times.

It made me laugh (in part...at least...I think) because there is sooooo much backstory --decades of it, back into the 1980s-- which influences and encompasses my opinion(s) on Covid, etc... some of them quasi-opinions. (But why does that make me laugh? Hmmm...well, I might ponder that some....)

[Note: I took a multi-day, solo trip in August from NC to PA and NY. It's a huge deal; I've not been able to do any such solo trips since 2011 which was the time of the onset of my current challenges and made any such trips undoable for me. This trip was still a fantasy in June, 2021... I'm kinda still pinching my self that it was real. But, very real it was in deed --"out of time and place," as my friend in Woodstock, with whom I stayed in NY, described it. (The condition I developed in 2011 is polyradiculitis which is usually associated with Guillain-Barre and CIDP. I've had gradual improvement, mostly since 2016. The trek continues...)]

Tuesday, August 31, 2021

Of Paths and Surrender (2006)

Coming across this poem was yet another serendipitous encounter. 
Click here, and scroll down, to read about it. 
Small thing maybe, but then again, not...

[Note: From the archives...2006]

~*~

God looks upon you with favor today
He rejoices you are His child
He tenderly reaches out
And clears a path for you

You observe from a distance and ponder,
Can I trust the path?
What if danger lurks?
What if it isn't what I expect?

All the while God patiently awaits
And you wait...
And you ponder...
And time ticks by

Later you revisit the path
It is barely visible for weeds have overgrown
You turn and walk the other way
Still pondering
And time ticks by

You again revisit the once clear path
Yet now the landscape has changed
There is no path
Where once lay the path
Now, a city

You drop your head
For it is too late
Your heart sinks
With regret and despair

But with God all things are possible

He looks upon you with favor
He rejoices you are His child
He tenderly reaches out
And clears a path for you

You observe from a distance and ponder
You approach for a closer view
Your heart is quickened with a spark of hope
Maybe, just maybe.....
As you take the first step

This time I will trust
Even if there is danger
Even if it isn't what I expect

He looks upon me with favor
He joys over me with singing
He tenderly reaches out
I will grasp His hand
And surrender to Him

In thee O Lord will I put my trust

~*~
penned november, 2006,
thirteen months after i'd left the way

Don't throw out the prophet...

Where will I go next in my journey
Aye, I am already here
In the next
Which is the now

~*~

My mind's eye recalls August 3, 2010
I stand in the darkness of night
In the forest
In a circular space
Where various paths converge
Just north of the Roan Highlands
On the Appalachian Trail
Which had just disappeared 
In the dark, in the hub
I search for the trail blaze 
Upon a tree trunk

(Wow, 8/03/10...
The day after JK's words...
Plunged my heart like a dagger...
And I began to shrink...
Eleven-plus years ago...

I've wondered the last few days
Am I picking up where I dropped off 
 
I am broadening again 
Deepening, growing
Instead of shrinking
Instead of occupying inertia 
Maintaining survival mode
 
But have I not been growing 
All along
Yet I also shrank
And in the shrinking I grew
Life is filled with paradox)

Now in this August of 2021
I again find my self in a hub
With various paths from which to choose
Not in a forest, but in my soul

Carol, don't throw out the prophet
Don't reject based on your projection
But don't abandon the lessons you've lived and learned

Be as aware as capable in any given circumstance 
Especially be aware of your responses
There's more to live, more to learn
Stay open. humble, patient, grateful

Listen. Listen. Listen...
Re-member. Re-member. Re-member.... 
Be. Be. Be....

Take the next step...
And the next...
And the next...
Which will then... 
Become the now...

Is that not 
In some sense
Prophetic 
___________

Right after posting this piece, Don't throw out the prophet, I visited my poetry vault at Poetry Pages. Curious about what I'd written way back when, I clicked on a poem. And...here is what I read: Of Paths and Surrender, written in 2006. 
Oh my.... 
Quite the serendipity after writing my prose above...
I searched Parchment Anthology and couldn't find that old poem. So I posted it here.



Thursday, July 1, 2021

Hidden structures of reality...

We think empty space is a thing
But it's not 
So what is it
What is empty space if it's not a real thing

There is no word to describe it
Flow-particles-waves-invisible-light

Light that appears invisible and flows
Particles, invisible that flow
Waves, invisible that flow

That is what the river teaches
And the wind
And tiny seeds in dandelion fur 
Footprints in the sand as they disappear
The ocean
The creatures within it
Especially those yet undiscovered
Deep in the deepest depths
They take life source from a different kind of light
That we would think of as darkness

It is through these 
structures
that we explore reality

Is reality eternal
Is reality infinite
If only I had wings

But I do
In the depth of my soul
In my nightdreams
In my daydreams
Upon notes of music
Music of the wind and the bird and the call of the wild 
In their hidden structures
For which there are no words

~*~

Prompt:  The muse is inviting you to explore the hidden structures of reality...
Monday, 6/28/21

Earth Day, 2021

I am brave
I am strong

My bones
My sinews
My neurons
My internal communicators
My synapses 
My spinal nerves
My nerve roots

Rivers within me 
Extend for miles and miles 
They are wholly whole
And they soothe me

All work together to nourish the rivers of life and health 
That course through my trunk and limbs 
And crown and roots and leaves
My xylem and phloem
Like in my brother, Tree
My sister, Flower
My mother, Soil
My father, Stars

I am whole
We are one
And we have won

What have we won?
Peace
At least in this moment

~*~

4/22/21, Earth Day
Day 12, MB workbook

Wednesday, May 26, 2021

Riding the moonbeams...

I bouldered the ancient rocks of Grayson
In June, 2020
Bouldered, I say!!
Maybe I'll be able to do it again?
And if not, I did it then

I hiked four miles upon my beloved Roan 
In August, 2020
Four miles, I say!!
Maybe I'll be able to do it again?
And if not, I did it then

I biked seventeen miles up a mountain 
In September, 2020
Up a mountain, I say!!
Maybe I'll be able to do it again? 
And if not, I did it then

Since a few weeks ago
I've been able to walk almost normally
Up the stairs in our home 
In this May, 2021
Will it continue?

Cognitive, physical, neurological fatigue
Have eased these past three weeks
It's nice to be able to think
Beyond the confines of selfcare
Will it continue?

I observe
I wait
I continue

Maybe, just maybe
I can bid farewell to steroid epidurals 
I've felt the puncture into my lumbar spine 
Some 34 times, thus far

Maybe. just maybe
I can bid adieu to steroid trigger points
Nine jabs each time into my cervical spine
Some 45 rounds, thus far

And then wave goodbye to
Daily prednisone
Little white pills I swallow down
Some 3500 days' worth, thus far

Wow...
Could it be? 
Possible?

I will continue
I will wait
I will observe
I will wait
I will continue

Thank you my body
Thank you my brain
Thank you my heart
Thank you my entire being

For being my friend
For doing that which was needed
So we could survive
So we can now soar

Riding the moonbeams
With wings of the Luna moth...

Riding the rainbow
With wings of the butterfly... 

~*~

5/26/21
Prompt: "When you open your imagination, what is possible now that might not have been possible a year ago?"

~*~

The Roan ~ 8/09/20 
 From Jane Bald ~SoBo view on the AT
"Four miles, I say!!"




Tuesday, May 18, 2021

Lorax and Tree and Me

I relax my thorax
With help from The Lorax

"The Lorax?" You say
"What has the Lorax
To do with your thorax?"

The Lorax, you see
He speaks for the tree
Which has trunk and limbs
Similar to me

Xylem and phloem
Course through its veins
Feeding its limbs
Addressing their strains

Like xylem and phloem
Cells in my body
Talk with my brain
And when The Lorax speaks
He's addressing my pains

So I relax my thorax
With help from The Lorax 
And shared energy
From our friend, Tree


Monday, March 22, 2021

Lilies of the field

 Almost immediately after I wrote the words:

...But is there any such thing as irretrievable? 
Are the disappearers... 
~ those emotions, thoughts, revelations 
buried or drowned into oblivion ~
are they stored in an internal, mercurial, ethereal, other-conscious world,
seeded to emerge in some other form?

What is that form?
In what fashion does it manifest?
Dis-ease of the mind and body?
Dis-ease of the soul, even soul-suicide?...

(Though those aren't the exact words I originally wrote.
They emerged from a splatter of words on the screen.
I no longer have the original splatter.
I formed it into another shape,
Hopefully without losing the essence of the splatter,
So, actually, it is the original splatter, rearranged.)

After I wrote those words
My almost immediate thought was:

What about the joys?
Are not those stored too?
If traumas are stored, 
why not joys? 

Would not they also manifest?
In what form?
Could they manifest as 
life-ease, rather than dis-ease?

I sometimes say, after moments in the flow,
"Another good memory in the bank."

Perhaps as we accrue these deposits
They too will be excavated 
from the deep earth
to a more shallow level
where they can grow
like flowers from seeds
reaching up through the soil 
toward the light,
like sunflowers
or the lilies of the field. 



Gestation

I feel pain
I feel my body changing
I'm not sure if it is for the good

What is happening 
to me? 

I wait

I feel stickiness
In my body
Not around my body
Rather, between parts of my body
Like a lubrication

I wait

I feel my self folding
Into a different form
Like someone is
Beside-within me

I feel my self cracking
No, not me 
It is this shadowy casing
My recent dwelling

And I wait

I feel something odd
On my back
A gentle coolness 

Something, 
something big, 
is happening.

And I wait

Oh my!
What is this?!

More gentle cool
Not rushing in
Just more of it 
Surrounding me

I feel  
My self 
Emerging

From my spine 
There is pain
Something is unfolding
As it unfolds
The pain eases

And I wait

Then
Like I already know what to do
For no one has told me
It is innate
I stretch and stretch
Two lightweight structures
Emerge from my back
I feel them broadening

With an almost unconscious effort
Because I know 
This is what I am made for
I begin to undulate these structures

And I am lifted upon the air

And I see 
Not only with my eyes
But with my entire being
I see a wide view

I can float and fly and land
Upon the milkweed
To drink its lifegiving nectar

The new opening gestating in me is 
Freedom
Somehow I will make it through 
All these symptoms
Beyond the poisoning of my system

And I will emerge

Maybe not totally cured in body
But in my soul I will soar
And maybe
Just maybe

My body shall follow....

~*~
3/22/21
Prompt: "The new opening gestating in me is...."
~*~

Monday, March 8, 2021

Excavation

I've not been writing lately. 
Not even journaling.
I think about writing, things I'd write about.
But it stops there, after the conversations in my head about such things.
Sometimes I get insights.
Sometimes I type those insights into words on my iPhone's Note-app, to remind me of them.
But mostly, by the time time allows me to write, my energy for such has dissipated. 
The faded conversations get stored in some retrievable or irretrievable space-place. 

But is there any such thing as irretrievable? 
Are the disappearers... 
(those emotions, thoughts, revelations 
buried or drowned into oblivion)
are they stored in an internal, mercurial, ethereal, other-conscious world,
seeded to emerge in some other form?

What is that form?
In what fashion does it manifest?
Dis-ease of the mind and body?
Dis-ease of the soul, even soul-suicide?

Not the suicide of the physical, 
but rather, the emotional,
but rather, the self,
where one so stifles the soul's voice that it becomes 
suffocated,
only to then emerge,
reincarnate, 
in a form unidentifiable with its previous form, 
at least to the physical eye. 

O Exiles! 
buried, suffocated, drowned...
Be made manifest!
Be made free...

Such prayer causes me to tremble inside.

But there is nothing to be afraid of.
I am physically safe.
I am mentally safe.
I am emotionally safe.

With my excavation partner
--that is my soul, my essence, my being--
together, we can do this.
Can't we?

I have the tools.
Don't I?


Tuesday, February 23, 2021

Equanimity ~ Mantras that help me...

 
Today...

~May I be friends with my body, partners
~May I surrender...accept...forgive 
 ~May there be equanimity  

Today...

~May I have ease of well-being
~May I surrender...accept...forgive
~May there be equanimity 

Today...

~May I feel meaningful connection with at least one element in my environment
~May I surrender...accept...forgive
~May there be equanimity

Tonight...

~May I await sleep easily
~May I drift off peacefully
~May my dreams assist me

Equanimity...


Windowful of Treasures ~ Portal Connections


~ May I drift off peacefully ~



~ May my dreams assist me ~