Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Live, Dream, Soar

It’s been so long since I touched my fingers to the keys and let the words tumble out onto a blank screen. I had forgotten just how much I love words. Piecing them together to create something eloquent and beautifully stunning. Words have power, they do. Immense power…to help, to heal, to wound, to destroy. I have blamed the medication in the past for robbing me of the desire to create, to sketch, to write. It is true, that without the touch of madness, it doesn’t come quite as easily, as readily as it once did. But it isn’t entirely fair to say that I have been robbed of this magnificent gift, because those words are still there; inside my mind in a swirling haze, waiting to be set free. And it is time now to do just that.

I have decided I might like to publish a book, though I don’t know entirely how to go about doing that. But I can envision the book in my mind, and that’s the first step to making it into a reality.

DSC00520

Step 1: Live

Step 2: Dream

Step 3: Soar

I am well on my way to living. I’ve got the dreaming down pat. So that just leaves soaring, which needs a little preparation. I have to be ready before I take the plunge out of that nest. So what does that entail? Research. Compilation. Submission. A little bit of hope, luck, and determination. This is something that I want, and I know that I can do this.

Let the journey begin.

Advertisements

DSC00592

 

When the tears threaten to come, I close my eyes against them, barring their existence. Still they seep through closed lids, trickle in rivulets, torrents. I feel as though I am frozen in time, a stone statue, hard and impenetrable. But the tears threaten my very existence, carving weathered lines into hardened features.

It is over; it is done.

And the darkness which fills my soul, swirling haze, is merely fleeting. For yet again, the surge of energy, the surge of power; a flock of birds taking flight, flames leaping at my spirit. It takes control, and laughter bubbles from deep inside. I want to run, soar, shout my joy into an unending sky. Build masterpieces. World shattering, life altering creations. They are just waiting to be unleashed from my fingertips.

I yearn for solace. I yearn for quiet. Seek balance and shelter from the emotional storms which wreak havoc on my mind and soul.

Balance.

Tell me stories

The end of an era. A new life. New beginnings. Dreams, beliefs, desires. All of these words to describe who I am, where I am, now in this exact moment in time.

So much has come to pass, and it is funny how life meanders along, you barely noticing, until suddenly, you find yourself at the edge of a cliff, your toes hanging over the edge, teetering above the abyss. When you are faced with a tragedy, a sorrow, a great and powerful joy, conflict, life altering decisions.

I finished college. Two years of my life flew past in a moment; in the blink of an eye. Some days stretched on and on, turned into weeks that seemed unending. There was much turmoil, despair punctuated by intense joy, laughter, friendships. It was the longest two years of my life, and at the same time, flew by like the wind. I am grateful for every moment of it. I am grateful.

I am finding myself paralyzed by anxiety. Tiny flames of fear flicker, until I am all consumed. I am afraid of the future. Faced with choices; so many choices, all of which will take my life in a different direction. I don’t know where to begin. Afraid to take the first step, I am frozen in space, unsure what is “the right choice”, knowing that there is no right or wrong choice, just simply a choice to make.

Where to begin, what to do, where to go? How do I find balance? Questions linger.

It is a new era.

 

Dear Mom

What a surprise I had this week when I came home to a call from the nursing home. It would seem that you left a Christmas present for Logan and I with your friend there for safe keeping until Christmas and asked her to make sure we got them. At first I didn’t know how to process it…it made me sad to think that you had known you wouldn’t be around for Christmas. But you were always thinking ahead, always planning. You’ll be with us this Christmas. We love you.

Dear Mom

Dear Mom,

It has been 35 days since you passed away and left this world behind you. I tread each day carefully, almost on tiptoe. I don’t know how I am supposed to feel. Some days I waiver into a dark pit of sadness, but others, most, I am okay. I have stopped expecting to pick up the phone to find you on the other end, though it took me awhile to get accustomed to not hearing from you 3 or 4 times a day. Each night I go to bed and think about you. Sometimes you come to me in my dreams. During my waking hours I find myself caught by moments of remembrance; little things really, inconsequential. But then again, it is the tiny moments that make a life so beautiful. And you were beautiful. You are.

I miss you. I am doing okay, you didn’t need to worry about me, though I know that you did. I am taking care of Logan, he is stronger than you think. I know you were proud of us, you had every right to be, we are capable, strong, loving. We will make our mark on this world, just as you made yours. A powerful mark indeed.

I wonder if you listened to the music at your rock and roll send off. I think you would have enjoyed it. A message of joy and love; so much love by all those who knew you. We toasted you with honour and sang our hearts out to you.

I miss you. Did I say that already? It bears repeating. Deep breaths, tears for every memory that tugs at my heart strings, putting one foot in front of the other and facing every new challenge that makes it’s way into my life. This is what I do, what I will continue to do. And on those days where it hurts too much, I will sing my heart out to the sky and smile knowing that you are listening.

 

The Weeping Angel

She cries all the time now. Early and midday and evening calls filled to the brim with overflowing emotions; sadness, despair, hopelessness, pain. I like to think that there is a way that I can tame them somehow, stem the flow of tears and bring some semblance of joy to her voice, a smile to her face. Often I cannot, and really, it is not my job to do so…I am not in control of another persons happiness. I cannot be the missing piece that she so often seeks. And yet it tears at me. I withdraw into numbness, step back from the emotions that can and often are all consuming. I wonder what that makes me? Heartless? Cold and distant? Unkind? Perhaps all of these combined. But all I can do is offer my best, day in and day out. Some days there is more of me to give.

In three hours and 45 minutes I will join the hordes in saying farewell to 2010, and ringing in what will be the new year. At midnight, as the clock strikes that vital time, I will say goodbye to my 25th year and say hello to 26. My birthday has never been something that I particularly celebrated. It is a day just like any other. But this year, this year is different. This year I can look back to everything that I accomplished in one years time, and I can feel proud. This was the year I finally got my illness under control. This was the year I made hard choices and decisions and decided to try something new. This is the year I achieved. Things may not have gone as I planned, or as I expected; even as I hoped. But the fact of the matter is, I did something. And I’m not afraid to continue that trend in my 26th year. Unsure where to go next, how to approach it, how to be…I will just take a breath and plunge into whatever the future may bring. And this year will be what I make of it. It’s going to be a good year. I can’t wait to try it out.