Category : Swirling
A night like no other
Burned into my brain,
Came out of nowhere
Darkening my door.
Filled with fear and shock,
Guideposts fell away
Hearing the muffler fade in the distance.
I sat in stunned silence,
January having just begun.
Knowing not what lie ahead,
Love seemed the only answer.
My rock and my salvation.
Not understanding then
Open-heartedness wouldn’t matter.
Parker cried for months,
Questioning as did I.
Remembering all the years,
Saying my goodbyes.
Trust had irrevocably been broken
Unveiled as months unfolded.
Vows that rung unspoken,
Wounds that may not heal.
(E)xiled in my heart,
You likely cannot see
Zone when I’ll be free.
(photo taken by Cherish Bryck)
My life feels upside down. Everything about it feels disorienting. What I thought was (true) North, is suddenly not. I feel my emotions with enormous intensity, yet I feel somehow outside myself, watching me and the world around as if from above. I’m not sure what is ground. I can’t find my footing.
I’ve still got love on the brain. It’s on my lips. In my heart. It’s swirling through the very core of me. I’m channeling absolutely all the love I can muster right now. Embracing love as a practice. I’m sending out all the love I have ever felt, in one singular direction. Daily. Hourly. Actually, breath by breath. It is all I can think to do.
Amidst the recent swirling, I’ve been reflecting on my one word for the year. Secure. Not only is this my word for the year, it is one of my core desired feelings. It is how I want to feel, what I want to manifest, and the place from which I want my life to spring forth. This word has been a guidepost for me this year. When I can’t see the forest for the trees, when I’m in the thick of the swirling, I reach for it time and time again.
I have often looked to others for this feeling. Wanting to be seen, heard, held by another to feel secure. And as much as I need the love and support of others — as much as we all do — I’ve been reminded recently that this feeling, this desire, has to come from within. That at the end of the day, I’m searching for my own internal place to rest in all that secure embodies.
Then, as I was driving home from the grocery yesterday, an old favorite Indigo Girls song “randomly” came on…
“Secure yourself to heaven.
Hold on tight, the night has come.
Fasten up your earthly burdens,
You have just begun.”
That’s right. This journey, in so many ways, is in its tender dawn. I have just begun. And that sense of trust, feeling rooted and secure, will come. It will come.
I’ve been swirling for the past few weeks. Most days have felt like a struggle. Getting out of bed has been difficult. Pushing through the day has required inordinate effort. I’ve been looking forward to the end of the day when I can come home, change into my pajamas, and pour a glass of wine, with far too much gleeful anticipation.
I’m having tumultuous dreams and flashback images of my mother. A dear friend’s wife died, bringing up all of the feelings associated with the knowledge that friends my age shouldn’t be dying and that I, too, will die. My tendencies toward existential crisis lie just below the surface, and needless to say, have been spilling over. My self-efficacy regarding writing a memoir, telling my story and telling it well, has been dangerously circling the drain. Oh, and Mercury was in retrograde. I can’t see the forest for the trees.
I have been stuck. In a fragile, emotional, crying-three-times-a-day funk. For a few weeks. But I’m coming out of it. I’m clawing my way to the surface. I have to. I need to see the big picture. I need to remember that life is short and I will die, and to use that knowledge to embrace the life I have rather than retreat from it. I need to remember that revisiting my past opens old doors, and that dreams and flashbacks are part of the process. I need to remember that I’ve never written a memoir before, that this is all new territory for me, and that my self-efficacy will grow as I keep writing.
Yes, I’m shaking the devil off. Casting off the stuck-ness. Starting to glimpse the forest again.