I have been quiet of late, using other poet's words to distract you from the silence. I have tried to write a post several times, yet nothing appears of substance. The rain continues to fall here in Southern California. I love to lie very still in my bed and listen to the rain falling on our wee cottage. Sleep escapes me most nights, the falling rain provides a distraction from the dark, sleepless nights.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
I am constantly looking outside to check the garden and watch the earth soak up the holy water. I miss the birdsong during all of this water, but in the lulls of the downpour, they sneak out of their shelters and pounce along the ground with quick and short tweets, very little song.
I guess, I am feeling out of song these days. I have found myself refer to my old life in the past tense, my heart is breaking for what used to be. I am having a difficult time embracing what is. My other life seems erased, like it never was. I feel like the last seven years have been an illusion of a life I thought I loved. I have awoke in the dark night, to find my memories like the fleeting threads of a sweet dream. By mid-morning, we find ourselves asking, "What was the dream again?" But it is gone. Dreamily gone. An illusion.
It is difficult to grab onto the moment. My options seem limitless, but I am in mourning, experiencing the five stages of grief. I do not even know which one I am on now. Is it like a list we go down systematically, or can one vacillate from one stage to another? I feel like I keep backsliding into denial. Is it over? My community is gone, the isolation grows and I am losing confidence in my ability to teach, to paint, to offer anything of substance. What happened? Did I chose this?
I am forced to be strong, but not for my children this time, they are growing and well cared for, I feel I am fighting a fight for me. I am being forced to face myself, to summon strength for who I will be for the rest of my days. I am on a precipice and must decide, do I stand tall? Or do I walk away, with my shoulders tall and my heart and mind firm? Or, do I stay in bed? Bed seems nice, especially with the rain beating at my door, on my roof...