Lofty platitudes or was it elevated truisms? Did it matter? Strip away all the familiar tunes. What’s left? It’s the same old song and dance.
Let my actions bite me in the ass, I am growing tired of all the play it safe stuff. Back to the nothing ever happens unless I make it happen. The time to throw something at the wall and see what sticks is over.
I am going to need some fortitude and courage, all that I can muster. Time to get unstuck and let your actions back up all those pretty words.
Leaving for work, the skies dark and full of promising rain, I took a somber moment to avoid stepping on a dead baby bird in the middle of the sidewalk. The ants were making light work of its frail little broken body. It must’ve fallen from the nest in the middle of the night.
The poor thing was just lying there next to the stairs, you had to walk around it. What struck me the oddest, was that it was the second dead bird I had seen that week.
Sometimes sitting on my porch tending to my plants, a blackbird likes to mess with the little sparrows in the tree outside my son’s window. There’s always plenty of predatory birds; I live near a protected sanctuary. The nest is empty now.
I have seen a bald eagle in the area more than once, and there’s countless osprey. It’s probably the biggest reason there’s not a lot of tomcats in the area. Sure one or two will show up; but they’re never large tomcats, though they are battle worn, and it’s just an observation, but they never stay long. We have to keep our domesticated small cats and dogs leashed for a reason here.
Not three days ago, there was a dead sparrow on the sidewalk between the building I work at and a stripmall shopping center. I walk through the breezeway between the stuffy buildings to take in the lovely fragrant plants and get fresh air and walk.
Strangely enough this bird was just laying there, reduced to tiny bones; the feathers sprawling, it’s eyes hollow, peaceful, the beak turned downward. Poor sightly little thing. It took two days for maintenance to remove it. I was more than mesmerized by the way it looked, something very tranquil in its expression.
I couldn’t help but wonder, is this a sign? What did it mean? Why do I have to make it into anything other than the fact that the circle of life is constant. And death is natural and always all around us. Nature is both full of life and full of death. There has to be balance.
When my thoughts go dark, I look at the whimsy in flowers.
When routine bores me, I go outside and walk barefoot in the grass.
When my mind is caged, music sets it free.
When erotic thoughts consume me, I love myself.
When I am sad, the sky paints colors that embrace me.
When I can’t shut out the world, I get lost in a book.
When I am lonely, I write and the words hold me.
I want to look away, but I don't. Everything in me is screaming to stop watching the news, but there's a part of me that knows I have to know. I cannot always look away. But it gets too heavy to carry and my heart is breaking.
So many people are hurting. Why is the world turning to such brutality and awfulness?
I used to meet my emotions with pure fire. I would stuff down the pain, the terror, the worry, the anguish and anxiety. I would sweep it to the side and focus on surviving and getting to the next moment intact. I didn’t have time to open myself up to my emotions and stand in the rain of my own vulnerability. I had to act. I had to mom. I had to work. I had to keep moving.
My emotions caught up to me and stared me down until I relented and let them in. I sat with them and felt every single little thing. It nearly killed me. I had to experience emotions from my childhood and trauma that I never truly let go. I was dying quietly. I told no one. It was and still is one of the loneliest moments of my life.
I fell apart and absolutely no one knew, no one saw and no one came to save me.
I lived in an emotional whirlwind of unresolved pain and fear and trauma by myself. I met every single emotion with open arms and let it kill me.
Until one day, I stood up again. I stood taller and my heart and mind could make sense of all these emotions and feelings. It was heavy, but I felt lighter and I felt the flame within me grow stronger than I had ever felt it.
It hurt and I can’t even write this without becoming emotional and tearing up. But I don’t run from it anymore. I let the tears flow, and I dry them.
I don’t want to just survive things anymore. I want to live in the truth of who I am and what I want my life to be. Turns out, survival is only reactive.
Living in my emotions and my fire gives me balance. This is me living my life now.
No one is coming to save you, get the fuck up, feel everything, and you will find your strength, strength beyond what you can imagine.
I always thought by not feeling things I would be better off. And it would help get me over that hump. It was a strength during those times and it did help me get through some unbelievably difficult times. But I never got over them, because I never allowed myself to feel my emotions so I still carried these things with me. It was survival, a coping mechanism that was necessary at the time.
I don’t do that anymore. It doesn’t serve a purpose anymore to ignore my feelings. Now I feel every little thing, even if it makes other people uncomfortable.
I don’t live my life to please anyone else anymore. I live for me, for the love inside me.
I don’t entertain disrespect, bread crumbs or mediocrity anymore. I love me. I know there is magic in this world, because I am magic.
