There is a place deep within me where I go when the world is too much
In that place sounds are muffled
Light is dimmed
All of the harshness that is too overwhelming is dampened down and pushed away
When I arrive in that place, I am already so weary and worn
I'm struggling to breathe
Struggling to cope
Struggling to not give in to the crushing pressure of life
No one can reach me there, not really
In that dark and quiet place I am safe to process my feelings
Safe to release the pressure valve on my emotions
Safe to feel exactly what I feel without worry of judgment or contempt
Sometimes I wish I could just stay there
But I'm a mother and a wife and an employee
The real world doesn't stop spinning
Responsibilities do not stop needing attention
Children do not stop needing guidance and love
Husbands do not take leave of their expectations for what a wife should be doing
Employers do not stop expecting you to show up and be productive
So in that shelter I do my best to let go of what I can
To surrender to the sorrows, the tears, the fears, the doubts, the broken dreams, the disappointments
I let it all flow out like water into this grotto
Hopefully to be cleansed
And by releasing these things I pray to be renewed enough to keep going
Even as my knees shake and my back aches and my voice quivers
And the tears flow
I pick myself up
Straighten my battered crown
Wipe the tear tracks from my cheeks
And reapply the mask as I chant a prayer begging for serenity
And step back into the bright, loud, ever demanding world again
-gws
I was tasked to write out my feelings regarding someone who was one of the biggest adversarial people in my whole life. The exercise designed to help me relinquish and release my long held rage and resentment. I wrote seven and a half pages. I ran out of words. But I didn't run out of rage.
I have carried molten, violent, unfulfilled rage toward this person for at least a decade. This person is dead, and yet I still hold a belly full of rage. Raw, ragged, bitter, acidic rage.
It consumes such resources with its existence. I have carried this wicked ember for so long that despite the fact that it no longer serves a purpose, I don't know how to release it or extinguish it. It is a companion I have grown too used to despite despising that it exists at all. I also cannot help but wonder how life will feel without the burn I've become so used to.
I feel it sitting like a silent scream, desperate to wrack my body in ragged convulsions of hot tears and roaring sobs. I feel that if I were to relinquish my hold on it, the rage would wring me dry, and maybe consume me outright. It feels like once the bottle is uncorked and the demon released, its force, alone, will use me up in a blinding, all-encompassing, soul-fire blaze.
Will I survive it? What will be left of me? What lies beneath it? What will take the place it leaves empty and desolate? Will I be the same when it's done with me?
gws
Happy Pride Month!
Whether you scream your truth from the rooftops, or live in quiet authenticity,
I hope you live as your authentic self, surrounded by love.
-gws
Given gifts of joy
Being fully seated in the body
Experiencing full presence
Lingering moments of stillness
Rooted in sense memory
Reminding me how to be fully whole
Fusing me to the earth and heaven
In the space between breaths
Leaving me in profound and
All-encompassing gratitude for being alive
-gws
You grabbed me in the airport souvenir shop and took me home
You needed me because you were leaving her behind
Leaving her to her new life
New adventure in a
New state
Without you
The distance was large and though I am small
I am a place holder for a love that is larger than time and space
You need my fluff to represent her hugs
You knew she wasn't really leaving you
It was just time for her to start a new chapter in her life
You were used to being the one to go adventuring knowing she was
Always there to return to
She was always home
Both a person and a place
And now the place was changing
And you could no longer just show up on her door when you need her
When you are sad or missing her, you have me
I am the recipient of her hugs and her love
When you need more than her voice on the telephone
You imbued me with magic that flows from your love for her
And her unconditional love for you
I am the quiet but cuddly representation of the love
Shared by a mother and daughter
Separated by distance
But not by heart
-gws
