I fell so low
And cried so hard
The tears that fell
Im dead inside
No hope no light
No joy no peace
Nowhere in sight
I am lost
I cry out
Where am I?
What now?
I messed up big time
Is there any coming back?
Is there any salvation?
From the darkness inside?
What can I do?
To prove myself to you?
I cannot.
You must trust
Yet I have hurt you
And broken that
You have a right
To not trust me
To not believe
The things I see
I didn’t mean it
To hurt you so
My brokenness
Made me stoop so low
So low so dark
The pain I caused
Can I heal from this?
No.
Can you heal from this?
Heal from the agony caused?
How can I help?
What can I do?
I’ve done enough
I did this to you
I don’t know how
I don’t know when
I know you will heal
But will you be…
… with me again?
As I dropped off my daughter at school she told me that her earbuds were no longer working for her walkman. Yes, a walkman. She asked me to get her a new pair. Informing her that I wasn’t planning to go to the store today, I immediately understood her reasoning. She believed that simply because I am a stay at home mom I can easily go and run to the store on a whim. While yes, I could, I try to not make it a habit, only shopping when necessary.
Why is it we have become so accustomed to getting what we want, when we want it, right now?
Our society today is very focused on “self” and what we want, not always on what we “need”. This mentality often causes difficulty as one can see so many people with the latest phone model and smoking yet unable to pay rent or utilities. I am not judging as each person’s situation is different. But my point is, are we more focused on what we want? Rather than what we need?
The sun always sets and always rises. This is a fact of nature. When the sun rises light comes, when it sets darkness falls. This cycle can be expected daily. A constant in life.
There are other constants in life we often have become so accustomed to that we forget the beauty of each. New life, death. A cycle. A seed, a tree. Constant cycle of life.
Other cycles we see that we sometimes not recognize. The egg, the chicken, the butchering, the processing, the meat at the supermarket. Do you ever stop and think as you eat a chicken nugget that at one point it was an egg? A seed, wheat, harvesting, processing, baking, shipping, supermarket. A loaf of bread at one point was a seed.
There are so many cycles in life. We need to stop and appreciate each one. The birth of a new child, the passing of a friend. The planting of a seed, the wheat fields as we drive by, the bread we enjoy as toast in the morning.
Focus on the simple things, for the more complex things are easy to not see how simple it once was.
Some days are just hard. We’ve all been there. You are running late. trip over the kids toys, stub your toe, spill your coffee, car won’t start, can’t get a hold of anyone to help you with the car, get a medical bill for $400, kids are crabby, burn dinner, break a glass cup, kids wont cooperate to get ready for bed, then finally… the day is done. And you feel totally exhausted. I get it. The above was one of my days just recently. But I made it.
And I cried. Cried sad, angry tears. Not of self-pity, just of ‘mom-exhaustion’.
Want to know the interesting thing? I thought it was wrong to cry. Wrong to release the emotion in such a way.
A dear friend of mine told me to cry it out. Release. That it wasn’t a sign of weakness. And she is right.
So many turn to alcohol or drugs or anger. But if a good cry can help, then let it out. If you are embarrassed to cry in front of people, then find your safe place, mine is the basement, and let it out. I often cry on the phone with a friend who wont judge me for my release. Or I cry with my husband who just sits quietly while I vent and cry.
Find your safe place, your safe crying place. And release. It’s okay. I am still learning this. It’s not easy to admit you need to cry, that you need this release. But it’s okay. I tell myself this every time I need this kind of release. Now I pass on this tidbit, it’s okay to cry.
Blogtober… what an interesting word. When I was presented with the idea, I was interested yet filled with anxiety. Why? Because I lack self-esteem and have a fear of harsh and unkind criticism.
Having received so much unkind criticism in the past has made me fearful of others. A fear that runs deep and comes from past situations I had no control over. But such thinking is self-destructive, ruining my mentality that I can succeed at writing.
But can I succeed? Now that is a deep question which requires my answering a couple other questions first.
What is success to me? To me success is completing a project and feeling happy with the work I have done, proud of it, in a way of self accomplishment.
Why do I write? Because I enjoy writing, it is a release, a way for me … to just be me.
Who do I write for? Myself mainly, as self expression and to bring myself joy. Then secondly for others to hopefully enjoy or to inspire them to write for themselves. They don’t need to share what they write but simply be themselves in what they put to paper or writing document on their computer or even their phone notepad.
So back to the initial question, can I succeed at writing a blog? The answer is yes, I can.
Putting aside all thoughts and fears of what negativity people may have, I will write blogtober and enjoy the words I put down.
Ask your self these questions now. What is success to you? Why do you write? Who do you write for? Can you succeed at this? Then do it.
May you too find joy in writing and I hope this inspires you to … try.
How often do we sit and watch the sun just rise? Or watch the sun just set?
So often life becomes busy, we finding ourselves overwhelmed, rushed through the day. Worry, anxiety, depression. Rush, rush, rush. Sleep rough, less than needed, run through the day, rush, hurry, here we go again, then late to bed, and repeat.
Do we stop for a moment and see the day as it truly is? The light of the golden morning, the clouds whisping across the sky, the tinkng of raindrops, the whispers of breeze or the howls of the wind? Or are our focus on too cold, too hot, too windy, too bright, and so on?
If we stop, if we breathe, if we wait… slow down… then can we see? It is up to you.
Made in Hong Kong in a small unnamed factory, the lady that painted me was the first face I saw. Her twisted face showed signs of many years of hard labor. Her thin old hands did not tremble as she stroked the brilliant colors of the China rose onto my whitened base. Setting me to dry, she traced my spout, uttering a few words of blessing. This was the last time I saw her.
The man who roughly handled me, placed me in suffocating tissue . Swearing curses, muttering about a messed up paint job, he was rude.
‘Me? Messed up?’ I shuddered inwardly as the package moved and thumped for countless days.
Then, gentleness, many soft voices, and bright light filled the box as it open. Gentle soft hands lifted me upwards. I gazed into the ocean blue eyes of a young woman surrounded by elderly ladies.
“Oh Mother!” She breathed, “It’s beautiful!”
“Oh dear,” The woman, who I took to be her mother, snapped. Her voice was loud, making me cringe. “I didn’t order a China rose! I ordered the Primrose!”
I glared at her and inside I felt very hot, which was strange, having not had to liquids yet. But the young woman smiled sweetly, gently touching the painting; her loving fingers making me feel… loved, special, important, just like my painter had made me feel. She set me down on a silver platter in front of a beautiful mirror that reflected my beautiful detailing. I was a beauty to behold. I was something.
The other small tea cups were nothing compared to my awesome splendor. Each morn I would feel the piping hot tea course through me as the morning rays caught upon my colors. I would calmly brag to the women who sat with my Meredith, as I soon found to be her name, how elegantly beautiful I was to behold. They always commented, exclaimed, envied that they didn’t own such a piece as I.
I enjoyed life, touched only by the gentle hands of Meredith, yet despised by her mother. I cared little for the old nag, only showing my truest colors for my Meredith, and Meredith alone.
For three glorious years I followed this lovely lifestyle with ease. The day this changed was May 13, 2005. I chipped. It was completely outrageous how the old nag ‘accidentally’, as she said, bumped me against the silver and part of my beautiful base chipped away. I stared in horror at my sliver of my heart where it lay. Shuddered as the mother tried to glue, tried to glue! Glue the piece back on! I cried long into the night, knowing I would never be the awesome piece I had been ever, ever again.
The next day, Meredith picked me up with the same tenderness. She filled me with tea and drank her morning tea as normal. I watched in shock as her guests commented on my painting and went about their normal chatter. I glanced down slowly in fear. Startled, the crack could still be seen! As chipped as I was, they saw me for the paint. Yet they still loved me.
To this point in time, three years later, I still do not understand how the mother did this feat. I look at her differently now, smile a little as she walks by. She and I know of the pain, of the chip and repair, of the brokenness. Yet I know she loves her daughter enough to love on me. And Meredith loves me for the way I am. I am content.
Sometimes when you feel like either caving in or exploding… take a step back, retreat from whatever is going on, and then breathe… the world and all its issues will still be there. Take time for “you” to just “be”.
Knowing that the world will still be there may seem overbearing. Yet the moments of just breathing, just being, help. In ways you cannot see before you take them. Take the moments. You need them, even if you don’t think you do.
Star light, star bright… Why do we wish on the stars at night? Why don’t we wish on the sun’s glow? Why must the stars begin to show Before we make our wishes known? Is there some kind of magic Or force we cannot see That guides the stars to come To align and wishes bring? If there is such a magic Or such a force to see Will it reveal to me What I do not see? What is the purpose And the plan for my life? Who am I in the world But a speck in heaven’s eye. I do not understand, Why we wish in such a way. But still I close my eyes To wish as meteors appear. Star light, star bright… Falling stars I see tonight, I wish, how I wish, To understand my life…
Senshi's Ramblings 