Sometimes too much, sometimes too little; sometimes too loud, sometimes too soft; sometimes amazing and sometimes a mess; but always good enough.
Sunday, October 27
Friday, October 18
Begin again
and so we begin again
dancing around the sharp pieces
of fallen stars
in bare feet -
because wearing shoes is too easy
and people like us?
we do things the hard way
over and over again
starting
stopping
and then we begin again
I dance -
the jagged self conscious movements
of someone who does not know what dancing is
step here, hands there, awkward, stiff, wrong...
you dance along -
your shadow over all the shattered stars so I don't see them -
trying to mimic me
because you can't stand to be looked at
singly
alone
in your own light
but your movements are out of rhythm
off beat
a step behind here, a step ahead there,
a left instead of a right, and what we create is ugliness.
and so we stop
and breathe heavily
tired
so tired
and stare at each other with eyes swollen by feelings we can't let go of.
and then we begin again
dancing around all the shattered pieces of this mess we've made
by ourselves
no one else to blame
and neither of us able to finish the hard work of cleaning up -
I pick up some bits and flotsam of brokenness
and you scoot some under the rug
I try to carry the largest bits, but I drop them with bloody hands,
you point
you laugh
you kick some of the brokenness toward me
shaking your head
and walking away
walking away
walking away
and I begin to dance again
in the middle of shattered bits of fallen stars
and find they sparkle a little still
without your shadow
dancing around the sharp pieces
of fallen stars
in bare feet -
because wearing shoes is too easy
and people like us?
we do things the hard way
over and over again
starting
stopping
and then we begin again
I dance -
the jagged self conscious movements
of someone who does not know what dancing is
step here, hands there, awkward, stiff, wrong...
you dance along -
your shadow over all the shattered stars so I don't see them -
trying to mimic me
because you can't stand to be looked at
singly
alone
in your own light
but your movements are out of rhythm
off beat
a step behind here, a step ahead there,
a left instead of a right, and what we create is ugliness.
and so we stop
and breathe heavily
tired
so tired
and stare at each other with eyes swollen by feelings we can't let go of.
and then we begin again
dancing around all the shattered pieces of this mess we've made
by ourselves
no one else to blame
and neither of us able to finish the hard work of cleaning up -
I pick up some bits and flotsam of brokenness
and you scoot some under the rug
I try to carry the largest bits, but I drop them with bloody hands,
you point
you laugh
you kick some of the brokenness toward me
shaking your head
and walking away
walking away
walking away
and I begin to dance again
in the middle of shattered bits of fallen stars
and find they sparkle a little still
without your shadow
Thursday, October 17
Sunday, October 13
Stuck
Stuck
like glue, in a fix, in the middle
Mired
deeply, thickly, immovably
Bogged down
dragged down, weighted, burdened
Held
pushed, shoved, blocked
Stayed
halted, delayed, diverted
Trapped
boxed in, jailed, removed
Caught
grabbed, tethered, tied
words that describe my life...
when will I be free'd?
like glue, in a fix, in the middle
Mired
deeply, thickly, immovably
Bogged down
dragged down, weighted, burdened
Held
pushed, shoved, blocked
Stayed
halted, delayed, diverted
Trapped
boxed in, jailed, removed
Caught
grabbed, tethered, tied
words that describe my life...
when will I be free'd?
Sunday, October 6
Saturday, October 5
What If
What if he said, "I'm sorry".
What if he really, really, meant it.
What if he asked me, "Please, could you ever forgive me?"
What if he understood when I said I couldn't.
What if he said he would spend the rest of forever trying to earn it anyway...
What if he said, "I was so wrong..."
What if he meant it, really really meant it.
What if he told me all the ways he was part of the breaking and destruction... and what if he owned all the things that broke MY heart?
What if he saw the light, the revelation, the truth, the whole entire messy scary thorny disgusting shameful horrible "thing" that was...and was real and authentic, finally?
Would any of it change who I have become?
Would I suddenly be different?
Would I be less angry?
Less scared?
Less worried and tense?
Less full of bitterness and sorrow and regret?
Would I lose the grief I've shouldered every day for more than four years?
Would I be less sure of myself? Less aware of my own heart? Less focused on my children, my soul, my future?
What would happen to my sweet sweet treasure that I was gifted with, the big brown eyes that melt me, the tiny face that spins my heart and soul...my littlest angel who isn't mine alone?
What if suddenly he took all the "I'm sorry"'s that I've given, all the "forgive me"'s that I've sobbed, all the "I was wrong to do this, and that, and say those things" that I've written and said and meant - and he finally believed me, and accepted it.
What if nothing... what if "just this" is "just this" for the rest of forever...
What if this is ok?
What if me, being strong, is better than what was?
What if me, being wiser, is better than what was?
What if my sweet treasure, my littlest angel, could only "be" because of all that came before?
What if all of us, being more mature and with wide open eyes, are stronger and safer and better off than before?
What if what we all have learned leads to something bigger, braver, deeper, truer, and more real than what used to be?
What if, yes, what if this is ok?
What if he really, really, meant it.
What if he asked me, "Please, could you ever forgive me?"
What if he understood when I said I couldn't.
What if he said he would spend the rest of forever trying to earn it anyway...
What if he said, "I was so wrong..."
What if he meant it, really really meant it.
What if he told me all the ways he was part of the breaking and destruction... and what if he owned all the things that broke MY heart?
What if he saw the light, the revelation, the truth, the whole entire messy scary thorny disgusting shameful horrible "thing" that was...and was real and authentic, finally?
Would any of it change who I have become?
Would I suddenly be different?
Would I be less angry?
Less scared?
Less worried and tense?
Less full of bitterness and sorrow and regret?
Would I lose the grief I've shouldered every day for more than four years?
Would I be less sure of myself? Less aware of my own heart? Less focused on my children, my soul, my future?
What would happen to my sweet sweet treasure that I was gifted with, the big brown eyes that melt me, the tiny face that spins my heart and soul...my littlest angel who isn't mine alone?
What if suddenly he took all the "I'm sorry"'s that I've given, all the "forgive me"'s that I've sobbed, all the "I was wrong to do this, and that, and say those things" that I've written and said and meant - and he finally believed me, and accepted it.
What if nothing... what if "just this" is "just this" for the rest of forever...
What if this is ok?
What if me, being strong, is better than what was?
What if me, being wiser, is better than what was?
What if my sweet treasure, my littlest angel, could only "be" because of all that came before?
What if all of us, being more mature and with wide open eyes, are stronger and safer and better off than before?
What if what we all have learned leads to something bigger, braver, deeper, truer, and more real than what used to be?
What if, yes, what if this is ok?
Sunday, September 22
Someday
Is it silly to weep over this? To wonder if I missed my chance? To dream of finding some connection like this, even now?
But I'm not unhappy alone... I'm not. I don't want to be tied down, to compromise, make room for and be flexible with... I don't want to share my space, my kids, my life... But still, it's human nature to want love, connection, to want to find that perfect soul mate who just "gets" you without trying. Or maybe it's just MY nature to want that.
This Jess Penner song is the theme to the wedding video of a friend of mine who married for the second time at age 40. She is crazy cornball goofy in love with a man who is crazy cornball goofy in love with her. They were together long enough to maturely decide that this marriage thing was exactly right for them. They are smart, intelligent, thoughtful people. But also total goofy cornballs. Their life is by no means easy - a blended family with teens, jobs, sports, their own individual jobs and extra curricular activities... but there is such respect and support for each other, such joyful accommodation of each others whims, such genuine interest in each other, that it stings a little, this emptiness of mine.
I wish them so much joy. I know they deserve it. Can I wish joy for myself as well?
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