Monday, August 5, 2013

looking back to look ahead

 Hello dear blog!  It's been too long.  Let's write something.

I'm a new season (thank God).  However, I do not want to forget a morsel of what I learned from the previous season--mostly because I never ever want history to repeat itself!  I also want to officially remember in thanksgiving so that I can cleanly move into a new place of the spirit.

Below are some snatches of almost-posts/journal musings from the last year...

October 15, '12

    Some years your heart is wrung out, mistaken for a tattered dishcloth.

    I don't say who does the wringing, but I know who mops up the mess afterward.  And such a mess!  What a stink it is, too—the deep, heavy sticky juice melting into all it touches, all it feels.
Stains everywhere, on the most ordinary objects.  
    It’s like this—you wake up and rush to a physical because your health insurance is almost expired and that’s what responsible adults do—they get physicals.  The mundane tick tocks along until you are asked your family medical history.
    A bored middle aged nurse says, “Let’s starts with your Mom.”
And Mt. Fuji erupts!  The UK sinks! 
    Heart stains everywhere, doubling you over as you stumble out, “She dies in June.  Cancer.” 
The previously stoic-bordering gremlin nurse transforms into Florence Nightingale, gives you a hug, and apologizes.  You muster up all the strength of a two year old and tell, with your toddler’s timbre, the specific cause of death and the age of the deceased.  The heart stains fade back into the carpet and you’re able to discuss more pleasant, normal fare—like why you don’t want a pap smear today (Ladies, if anyone asks you if you’ve had your “Well Woman” lately, be warned.  They speak not of vitamins).

September 18, '12
Humility Buoys/Little Things

The little things I am not above. 
Making my bed and peeling carrots, taking vitamins and braiding my hair. 

I’ve sunk underwater; I look up at life from twenty feet under like a stingray.  The sunlight patterns gentle waves, flexing and flowing in simple loveliness. 
From below, from below. 

If I just make muffins, play a Sonata, laugh until my gut aches…if I just go to bed on time.  Then I will begin to float in the shallows.   Just gulp humble air and remember I'm alive--and let the mechanics of my body spark and ignite my soul.  

I am a simple creature.  For all my pawings at greatness, I drown in my own depth. Forsake the exquisite sculpture that sorrow carves into the heart—just enjoy the coffee, baby. 

Let toes finger the deep, but don’t dive for long.  Let my greatness come from flying not falling.

I am done with dazzling depths that collapse my heart.
Let the ordinary keep me afloat.  Let it save my life.

No comments:

Post a Comment