“Well I just don’t feel that strongly
It’s so messy
I don’t understand why you are so passionate“
And the cold fish backs away hastily
A look of horror on their face
Tears for a sunset
Are out of place
Depth is so deep
And shallow so much safer
And their mind has never been so painful
That they have tried to crawl away from it
They cling to control like a dressing gown, drawn in snug, belt pulled tight
And when one day they suddenly realise that control is an illusion
These are the ones who break
Badly
*I recall many years ago, being in a painful place within myself. Everywhere I turned, there were sharp things that drew blood. And let me tell you, psychical pain is far more difficult to bear than physical pain. You can take a painkiller for a headache but a heartache must simply be born – it takes time to heal and in order to do so, it must be set free to do whatever it has to do.
If that means singing Scottish dirges loudly with siblings or dancing when no one is singing or breaking not very neatly or nicely.
Do it
This is how the heart heals – it feels
And it just takes you along for the ride.
There are people that apply alcohol, drugs, distraction like bandages and heat packs. I had tried alcohol and frankly I just couldn’t get enough. It became clear that my bandage wasn’t working. So I ripped it off and resolved to use only truth and awareness as a salve to the wounds.
Which is like taking vinegar and pouring it directly into a shattered femur.
But it cleans everything very very well
Control is an illusion. As a recovering control freak (see addict) I know this. There are people that never seem to experience the highs and lows of life, and I used to be so envious of their complacent attitudes.
They seemed to have all of their shit together .
Well, I heard the sound of one of those complacent people breaking the other day. It wasn’t pretty, she had no sense of humour (see resilience) and she could not get back up. She went to the doctor, is now on comfort drugs and still she doesn’t have an up. She may never find her up.
Which is very sad
I have had downs but I have always had ups. And nowadays the boat sails smoothly because I don’t cling and micro manage and I know I am my own up.
I don’t envy the complacent anymore
And I love the poets because poetry saved me, and I know it’s saving them
For what is poetry but truth and feelings singing in rapturous harmony?
Because we cry at sunsets and laugh in the wild wind, and we take deep breaths of life and smile
And our tears make our worlds a better place. We must have rain and sunshine in equal amounts. It is how we grow.
And now, if that cold fish said to me “your family is just so emotional, we don’t get so emotional in our family” I would smile and not be hurt. Because being able to contain feelings like an atom bomb that ignites but does not destroy – is a strength. It’s a God given strength – so don’t feel silly when you cry or laugh or weep or sing or fall, because all that brings you to earth, builds you realer than real. For you, life is truly beautiful.
Written 7/4/22
Yes, control is an illusion. I feel every other nuance you describe so eloquently here. Thank you. ❤️
Thanks 😊
🙂❤️
I believe that it’s becoming clearer to more of us that, contrary to what we would like to believe, we have no control over our lives. In following the news of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, I cannot help but witness the ways in which the people in Ukraine have lost control over their lives from one day to the next. They are by no means the first nor the last to have their lives upended by events over which we have no control and have never had any control.
We have only got control of our personal actions and words Rosaliene – and even these things are only while we live and thrive within a well ordered brain. Chaos is the day into which we throw ourselves each morning.
#1) I notice you wrote like 4 things on April 7. I’m one of those flat people. My emotions used to be manufactured by use of drugs and alcohol, since I quit, I experience ups and downs, but you would never know it from the outside. Of course there’s a possibility that I’m also flattened by medications, but I’m OK with that. Life hurts like crap without them.
Your wonderful use of words blows me away.
I could talk about emotions and dealing with pain but it would turn into a whole post.
Maybe, one of these days, I Will do a post.
I like poetry because it makes me summarise and get to the heart of things Granny. Otherwise I would go on and on and on. Try it on poetry – doesn’t have to rhyme – bit of practice and see what comes up
Amen, amen, amen. I purged and purged and let it out! No holding back. No temperorary “fixes” to numb the mental that came alongside the physical. I regurgitated the regrets, felt the fever of failures, put on a cold compress, with a smile, to comfort my core that finally broke free! Control is gone. I admit, I sometimes still seem clingy (particularly to my grown sons as their dad-away lives still are hard for me~I sit with sadness as a good friend and wave goodbye when it’s time to get a grip!). There’s a strength I never thought I’d have. But I found it. Thank you, Kate, for being YOU. For being with us on this journey. ❤️💛💕
Writing is an art that helps me clear a small space in my head to breathe…if only for a moment. Thank you for this and sharing your heart ~🕊
Thanks for reading Linda, yes writing is a brilliant tonic, I don’t know what I would do without it.