Sometimes when you run away from your troubles (a/k/a your cheating husband) you end up in an even hotter corner of hell. But sometimes you end up in heaven and find a little bit of joy in the midst of chaos. Wish I could stay here forever.
Soul
Roadblocks-10 Minute Poem Challenge
Sometimes I think
You should be wearing
A florescent orange vest
And hardhat to protect
Your thick head
As you direct our relationship
Through all the roadblocks that you set up
Your boulders of anger
Stopping the natural flow
Of traffic as we make our way
To the end of the road
You hold up warnings
Reading: DO NOT ENTER
That push me further beyond
Our agreed upon destination
Creating detours away from
Intimacy, connection, and deep love
Leaving me traveling on an empty road
Towards a dead end
Out in the middle of nowhere
Where I can neither go forward
Nor turnaround
Sometimes I think
You channel
Muhammad Ali
As you bob and weave
Dancing across my heart
Yet coming nowhere near it
Your left hook throwing me back
Against the ropes
Flattened and dazed
Seeing stars and two of you
One, kind and gentle
The other, a brut
Intent on winning
This fight
At all costs
Numb to the pain
That you have caused
And you tease and jab
As I wait for you
To deliver
Your knockout blow
Other times I wonder
If you are really a mason
Placing brick on top of brick
Day after day
Building a wall
With a hidden gate
That keeps me out
But lets others into
Your inner sanctum
And lets them experience
Your deepest feelings
That you have walled off
From me
But leave you
Standing alone inside
Of your fortress
And me standing on the other side
Of those immense walls
Of Yours
We both know that
You view me
As the Big Bad Wolf
Huffing and puffing
Until I leap over the wall
Only to be burnt
By the fire in your soul
And your repressed
Anger towards me
Returning Home
Tomorrow I head back home after seven days away and sometimes I wonder what I am going home for and who I am going home to. You tell me that you are all fine. That things are going along comfortably without me. It makes me wonder what is the purpose of my being there when it is so obvious that my being there is not what you want?
This morning when you told me that you asked the kids whether they missed me it made me wonder whether you had an ulterior motive. I mean, who asks their kids that? Kids always miss their mothers. Or were you hoping that they would say no so you wouldn’t feel guilty about what it is you appear to want to do?
But more importantly, the fact that you could not and would not give me what I needed…love words…speaks volumes about where our relationship is at. It crushed my soul that you feel such distaste for me that you could not say you missed me and you loved me. Whether you wouldn’t or your couldn’t…neither one is acceptable for is shows a lack of respect, caring and obviously the type of love that is needed for a marriage to flourish. Shutting down only allows you to keep yourself shut off and to reflect back any love that is directed to you which then allows you to convince yourself that I don’t love you. And it is all because you don’t want that love…at least from me. Or so it would appear.
Even more importantly, I wonder what parts of myself I should bring back and what parts I should leave behind that would help you to love me again. Which parts do I leave at the door because they are no longer desired or is it a matter of just not stepping over the threshold at all because there is nothing there that appeals to your sense of what a marriage should be. And it makes me resentful that I feel that I have to leave the best parts of me at the door to get your approval. That I have to drop off that introspective part, my inquisitive nature, and the part that believes you when you say “I love you” at the prompt.
After we talked this afternoon you said that the letter I sent you made you feel that you always disappointed me but to me telling your lover what it is you need is giving them the opportunity to create a better relationship. And me too. Yet, if the truth be told I think you USE that fact that you feel like you disappoint me as an excuse to be bitter and to prove to yourself that you are right. That nothing you do will make me happy. But I should be able to state my thoughts without being made to feel like if I do that you will think that you disappoint me. Often I believe that if I just smiled and never told you how I felt about anything that would make you happy and comfortable because you would never have to look at things that you didn’t want to. You could live in la-la land being happy while I became more and more miserable being something I am not. I mean if I can’t say in the kindess way I know how what I need from a relationship then I think that a life size blow up doll is your next option. Probably a skinny brunette.
As it is I wish you would ask yourself why you could not and would not assure me of your love? Why would you not say you missed me? Are you withholding because you no longer love me? If so, I can tell you that it feels cruel and inhumane. It feels life taking not life giving.
Yes, I know that yesterday I discussed that fact that holding onto our hurts only increases our own suffering and it does. I know this to be true because yesterday, I did let them go and they left leaving behind the lessons to unpack and contemplate. Yet, here they are back again and this feels like a major disappointment to me because it feels like I have failed myself as I pull out this hurt once again. But I hope in writing all of this, that by seeing my words in front of me, I can let it go and start concentrating on the lessons that are presenting themselves so I can grow.
Maybe it is all baloney. Maybe I can never be that type of person. Maybe I am just kidding and deluding myself but I would like to think not. I believe that I can and will be able to re-train my brain into seeing things in a new light. And that if I can start to apply what I have learn from these lessons that I find myself intertwined in at this moment; that someday in the not so distant future that I will finally not allow myself to give you such power over my own emotions. That I will learn to let go of things I cannot control and accept those things that I cannot.
Acceptance isn’t instantaneous. Learning how to allow acceptance to float throughout your life takes practice. Learning that you will not get everything you want from your relationship and you might have to find other ways to fill the void is something I am beginning to seriously consider and am searching for ways in which I can have my needs meet through my own actions rather than yours. It will take a while more. I am still learning. How long it will take I cannot say. But I know that when I come to accept you and myself that things will improve dramatically.
Until then I know that I am doing the best I can working with what I have got at this moment in time. If it is not enough for you then I am truly sorry. If it is, then I hope you have the courage to give me the time that I need to complete this journey that I am on, on my own terms and at my own pace. If you cannot, then you will lose out on something wonderul in the future. I may not know much but this much I know to be true.
Sit Still
It’s Sunday. B is out hiking in the mountains with Paul while I put on 8,500 steps talking and walking around the block. Gracie is sitting here whining at me, “I’m bored. There is nothing to do!” while Andre keeps raiding the refrigerator.
Me? Working on a puzzle and refusing to go anywhere at all. I don’t want to move after being on the go constantly last week . I want to sit in the stillness of the day and observe, ask questions and just enjoy what we have created together. But pressure is being put on me by the kids to leave the house…go food shopping or somewhere fun. You are wasting your time trying to convince me for its not happening today unless you are losing blood in vast quantities. And maybe not even then.
I have no idea how this generation of kids is going to survive when they are adults. Without 24/7 entertainment I suspect they will perish should the time come when there is a power outage that lasts over one hour. Having to always be entertained is a great burden and trying to fill it will be an exhausting never-ending effort when they are adults. In addition, they will have to make a ton of money to pay for their entertainment addiction. Frankly, illegal drugs would cost them less.
And so my sweet kidlets , I just want you to know I am doing you a favor by trying to break this chain of constant on-demand entertainment. Let’s relax… do nothing… or lets try some mediation. Let’s just zen out together doing something together that costs nothing. Believe it or not, we can just sit in the stillness with one another and we will be just fine. Who knows, you may just learn to appreciate the qualities that make us…us. And that would be mighty fine entertainment.
Contemplation
This morning I went to Pilate class in hopes that someday I will be able to bend down and touch my toes with my knees straight. I tell you this with some embarrassment, my face a hazy red even as I write this confession which when spoken aloud might sound something like, “Dear Father. Forgive me for I have sinned. I am guilty of gluttony. Of sloth too. Oh, I forgot to mention acedia. Definitely acedia. Maybe, I should thrown in a little wrath at my lack of impulse control too. Help me!”
Unfortunately, these vices are just the ones that come to mind within 5.2 seconds of the thought. Yes, paying someone to exercise with me feels somewhat tawdry and on the edge of something shameful; like eating a pint of ice cream all by yourself or having sex in a public place and getting caught with your pants down. In a world dominated by inequity it is the definition of gross irony.
In many other countries I would not have this problem of trying to stay in shape. I could easily be starving. Or walking down to the river to carry water up to my hut for cooking numerous times per day. Maybe I would be journeying five long miles each way to school so I could get an education. Or perhaps I would be picking through trash in a giant garbage heap in an effort to survive. There is no doubt I would be in shape because I would be working from sun up to sun down in ways that tax all your muscles as well as your spirit in order to get the job of survival done. Skinny in these parts of the world is more than just a desire to satisfy cultural “ideals.” Instead, it is a mandatory state that naturally occurs due to too little food and too much work. A choice concerning body image is not found anywhere in the life equation for so many women.
No, this is not the LIBERAL WHITE GUILT that so many speak of. It is witnessing firsthand the back breaking work that is required of so many of millions of people throughout the world on a daily basis. It is trying my hand washing hundred of dirty diapers used in an orphanage in Ethiopia. It is laying brick in a hamlet in Mexico. It is trying to teach students without the necessary materials. Or laying pipe for fresh water in a remote village. These are the things that have shown me how little I know about hard work, suffering, and how much a dollar means to so many. More importantly, they remind me about the privilege of choice which I possess and I rarely think of as I go about my busy day. A choice that vast numbers of people do not have about what their day brings. Suffering instead of starvation, bombs, vicious gang rapes, and of having to beg in the street for pennies. These are the things of which I know nothing and of which too many know too much about.
So I hop into my car and drive the four miles to my pilates class contemplating the size of my butt and the state of the world, both of which are loose and somewhat saggy. And as I do, I find I have mixed feelings about this life I lead in which I have the luxury of contemplation and not the burden of shoeless feet. And I begin to wonder about the travels of “the other/my sister/ my fellow human being” as we both make our way down these two very different roads that we both call life and what I can do to help.
Eyes
That concussion still hasn’t released my head from the ache. So instead of writing I leave you with this.
Stars
So today I was determined to climb out on the roof again to paint the second coat on the shutters. As I was pulling the heavy wood and metal blinds up, they slid out of their holders and put a dent in my head. I immediatley became nauseous, got a terrific headache… the likes of which I have never felt before… and I saw stars. The kind of stars that circle around the head of Daffy Duck or any Looney Tunes character who has had the unfortunate experience of being hit on the noggin.
I spent the majority of the day in bed popping aspirin, groaning, and trying to remember if my DO NOT RESUSCITATE orders were on file at the local hospital… just in case.
Stars are usually a glorious thing. When shining brilliantly at night they light our way to uncharted places. They remind us that there is something other than ourselves taking up space in the cosmos. They sprinkle the sky and our minds with hope when we wish upon them and they let us see history in its making. I still get amazed when I think that I can look back in history 20 million years just by viewing a star.
Stars have tremendous significance in our culture. We aspire to be stars in our own field of work and some aspire to earn a star on the Hollywood Walk Of Fame. We shoot for the stars, they mysteriously fall from the sky, and sometimes, if you are very lucky, even love is written in them. Stars really are an unpredictable and incredible creation.
Sometimes as I walk this journey through Mid-Life and through a “maybe” divorce I look to the stars for answers. I look up and see both the shadows and light which seems to mimic the course my life is taking now. I realize that looking to the stars for answers sounds like something out of a child’s fairy tale. Comforting. Magical. And perhaps that is all it really is..one big illusion. Yet, I would like to think that the stars are lighting up and guiding me to the possibilities that lie within me…freeing me… from those black spaces so that I might get my sparkle back and shine brightly once more. And thinking this way gives me hope that someday I can be my own beacon for my children and that they might look at that light radiating outwards from me to help them find their own place in this world…wherever that may be.
Another Great Love…291 Days To Fix This
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JzwlotQVj5g
One of my absolute favorite ways to pass the time is to steal away into my “time capsule” and visit the lives of my ancestors. I rummage through boxes of old family heirlooms, search on-line for records and read stories concerning the past princes and paupers who were my grandparents as far back as 28 generations ago. Every find is precious to me and every story a best-seller in my mind.
Recently, I have been transcribing letters from my GG Grandmother to her cousin who was serving in the Civil War in 1864. He would write to her and she would reply back and so my family has this treasure trove of correspondence during those very difficult times. In the end, cousin Niles died while serving in the war. Not of a bullet or bayonet but of typhoid fever. Dead at age 24 years. Single. Alone with no wife and no children to mourn his passing. And I would never had known about him if not for these letters. His writings tell much about what kind of person he was and what was of value to him and what got his goat. And as I sift through these letters I have come to realize that things really haven’t changed all that much in the past 151 years. Sure we have electricity, internet and automobiles now but the basics of what we need to sustain our soul are the same.
We all want the basic of better lives for our children. We want food on the table, peace on earth, and someone to enjoy the simple things in life with. We desire to be able to help our neighbor and know there is someone to help us back. We still enjoy a loaf of home-made bread, a good supper of home-grown veggies and a “howdy” from our loved ones so we know they are thinking of us. We still need friends to laugh and cry with, one good listener to tell our troubles to, and some cheap entertainment to make us laugh. Still others look towards something bigger than themselves to help inspire them to do better and offer guidance as to how to life a meaningful life.
Lately, in an effort to put my head in harmony with my soul I have been making many changes. One of the simpler changes I have made in my life is that I am attempting to make the essence of who I am known to my grandchildren. I bought each a fancy box and I am sending genuine hand-written letters to each talking about the day, my hopes and dreams for them and the headlines that fill the airwaves. I want something for them to remember me by. Something personal. Something real. But most of all, I hope they feel my love for them through my words. Because, truly in the end, NOTHING IS REAL BUT LOVE and I want them to have something to show for it, now and in another 151 years.
Gardy Loo Pismire 