Sisters of Pain

The old saying that "worrying about tomorrow takes the pleasure from today" perturbs me.  Truth stings.  One would think that my skin would be thick enough at this age to bounce away pain yet it isn't...it absorbs the impact well but I find that the cuts are still deep enough to leave scars.

Is it possible to inoculate oneself from past pain?  Can believing in the modicum that "time heals all wounds" keep one forward thinking and still able to grasp life's pleasures?

Perhaps time heals all wounds because eventually, we run out of time.  Our finite supply is haunting as it can be extinguished quickly without reason.  The wound then disappears because the body and soul no longer exist.

For those of us lucky enough to escape the perils of modern day living, we pay for our good fortune by living a purposeful life...or we're told we must live that way to honor those who've passed.  Guilt-shaming runs rampant in today's social media, from self-help gurus and from our own conscience.  We're the ones who have the gift of life, therefore, our duty is to make the most of it.

Saying goodbye to those we have loved, living or not, is extremely difficult.  It takes time and rushing serves no good.  I found this song captures what so many of us deal with...saying goodbye and willing to follow someone "down" in our pain yet in the end, carrying on with the hope of healing without worry and guilt.

I'll Follow You Down

Worry and Guilt

Worry and Guilt
The pairful prayerful sisters
Of Pain share it

Share the shame

Today's not tomorrow
Reminds us the same
is constant...is blame

Share the shame

Worry and Guilt
The saddening happening children
Of Pain know it

Know it's a game

Life's puzzle pieces
Fitting askance
Solving no problems

Know it's a game

Worry and Guilt
Playing again
With life's treasured promise

Breaking with pain

Dear Lover

Dear Lover

You don't complete me...
You enhance me.

You don't make my dreams come true...
You encourage me to have them.

I'm often at odds with myself...
And you're enchanted with my oddities.

When fear overtakes me...
It's comfort that you offer rather than rescue.

Dear Lover

When courage overtakes me...
It's celebration that you offer rather than envy.

I'm often at peace with myself now...
And you're happy with my peacefulness.

You don't make my heart beat faster...
You give it a reason to thump deeper.

You don't absorb me...
You let me wash over you.

Dear Lover
Dear
Love
No err

Take Your Time: Life Speaks

I'm sure that the word patience appears in my writing countless times.  It must.  My mantra falls back to it each time I feel restless with life.  And that happens daily.

Restlessness isn't new to me nor is patience.  They're oddly compatible.  I like to get things done yet defining things is becoming more difficult.  Clarity is the treasure I seek.  How laughable!  And so I get aggravated with the rhythm of life and its disregard for my urgency.  

Take Your Time

I've given you this treasure, Life says. 

Wrapped with the comics, I observe.

Time is funny.

It passes too quickly, no...too slowly.

It passes.

All day l-o-n-g.

You don't like my gift? Life asks.

I can't understand it, I sigh.

So many want this treasure.

I feel guilty because I have it.

No one begrudges you this time, Life remarks.

I have so much of it now...I'm lost in it.

Do you remember when it was rare?  

I do.

You wished for more and all of it yours.

And you have given it to me.

A treasure  you have dipped in guilt?

A pleasure I don't deserve?

Take Your Time

Where?  Why?  How?

On your journey.  Because you earned it.  Carry it in your heart.

Time is heavy.

Only if you wrap it in guilt.  Unwrap your gift.

Thank you.  

 

  

Earned It

Do we have another soul inside us?

As I learn about connecting to one's soul, one's own spirituality, I'm curious about our competing desires.  Science gives us much information about our impulsive nature...hormones, psychological secrets, our personal interactions with others that guide and sometimes wreck our best intentions.

In trying to make sense of my next 50 years, I find it hard to understand how my past self is the same one who will carry me forward.  The term "reinvention" irks me.  As a catch all phrase for life's foibles, it bears more weight with magazine covers and catchy social media tags than how reality works.

We can't reinvent the core of who we are without destroying our identity.  Maybe that's the goal for some, to escape their own identity.  I'd be more comfortable with reading the headline of "Woman Explores Herself" or "Mid-lifers Confronting Their Own Evolution."

I remember reading the novel Sybil as a middle school student.  At the time, many of us fantasized about being ruled by another presence inside us, manipulating our thoughts and actions.  As most trends go, it gained media traction for a while and it became popular to jokingly blame our other personality for mistakes.  Increasingly, multiple personalities appeared in court cases and medical claims until pure science fell on the side of their rarity.  And we masses were back to confronting our motivations and desires as belonging to just ourselves...just our own error pocked selves.

Merriam-Webster defines "soul."  The corresponding comments ponder how the soul differs from the spirit, etc.

Soul.  Sole.  I think I just answered my own question.  The soul is sole.  It is wholly within myself and I, I am just one but a mosaic of my life.

And I've earned it.  Now to become comfortable with the evolution of my soul.

Pain Killer

I've been reading a lot about pain management and most of it doesn't involve physical distress.  Mental and emotional pain can be direct offshoots of body malaise and vice versa.  As a symbiotic trio, it seems we're constantly chasing a cure for the pains that ail us.

My head aches.  I grew up observing a grandmother get "sick" headaches...modern terminology=migraines.  It astounds me that she was able to get through life with this malady.  Minus medication, they are life sapping beasts!  Even with its numbing power, I'm able to feel the drum beat of pain.

It seems the genesis of our being is to avoid pain...hungering for more, loneliness, heartbreak, physical deterioration...all inevitable so why not learn to coexist rather than to fight its existence?




We run from it;
We covet its power.
Our fear of pain transcends
Our other needs.

Hurting hearts and
Insane gripping thoughts
Keep us transfixed,
Keep us chasing

A cure.

Why not adapt?  Why not accept?
Pain always happens with mind, body, and heart.
Living within it, sharing its confines...
Why not survive?  Why not start?

Writhing among us,
The broken in pain,
Beating a drum,
Escaping in vain

It's ongoing.

We run toward it;
We covet its strength.
Our embrace transports us
Our agony becomes sane.

Pain killer is us.

Seasonal Isolation

Winter causes isolation.  Our fantasies include everyone with a warm mug huddling near a fireplace but reality is more like dreary days spent by oneself in front of a television or computer screen.

Sociologists are keen to warn us about the detriments of being alone.  How Isolation Can Kill You  Many would argue that our move to social media rather than person to person contact has contributed to it and yet, historians also chime in with how isolation wasn't always considered so foul.  How would the populace of the world have expanded if humankind wasn't wired to branch out alone and conquer new kingdoms?

It seems then that each generation faces the dilemma of how to be alone but not be lonely, how to be sociable yet not annoying, and how to withstand outward pressures that catapult us into unwanted isolation.

Cabin fever during cold winters isn't a myth.  Lethargy with summer heat is real.  Prolonged wet weather spawns depression.  Could all this mean that autumn is the perfect season with its crisp days and bright sunshine?  Maybe for some....

I'm yearning for springlike days and hot summer heat and feel selfish about it!  My Florida winter is nirvana for many enduring cold and snowy days.  But it's still my winter and has settled unwanted....

Siberian Express

Being cold in Central Florida is strange.  The sun shines brightly but the thermometer stubbornly stays below 50 degrees.  Cold!  My body and mind have stiffened in rejection of it and I've avowed that never again will I move north and live a winter in it.

This surprises me.  I love my home state of Kentucky and enjoy the changing of seasons and yet, I'm absolutely sure that northern winters will exist as memories rather than reality.  Existence in cold is now painful.  Most MS patients cannot sustain long periods of time in the heat...apparently, I'm an anomaly with that as with most summations of my malady.  Cold is my nemesis.  My brain feels foggy, my legs aren't listening well and this in turn gives me a bad case of grouchiness.

Staying in bed resisting  this until heat arrives has been most tempting.  Hibernation is appealing and assuredly what my body's instincts are calling me to do BUT intellect reminds me that rebellion is an unparalleled remedy.

Make the brain operate.  Move the body.  Adjust the attitude.

It's part of the metaphor I live daily as my life transition continues.  Half a century passed and I'm coming to terms with answers to many questions about my next half.

Where should I live?  I now know that I must live in warmth for my health...physical, mental, and emotional.  The warmth of other's love is also necessary and being close to that is imperative for my happiness.

How shall I feel?  This cold snap reminds me that I can CHOOSE my thought process by rebelling.  I don't have to give in to instincts and hunker down to wait out the misery of the transition.  I can think and move which will cause the attitude to alter.  My mother once said, "I am.  I will. I do."  It's a powerful statement of forward thinking and has guided me ever since.

What shall I do?  Answers to this must still be buzzing about the cosmos.  I continue to look upward, outward, inward for clarity.  Accepting my personality trait of the need to do rather than wait for it to organically appear means I turn over many rocks while seeking purposeful living.  Purposeful life existence is necessary to keep hibernation at bay.

I am.  I will.  I do...said the mother.

I am willing to do...said the daughter.

FOR SALE:  1 ticket on the Siberian Express