Showing posts with label story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label story. Show all posts

Saturday, September 17, 2016

She Says It's Time


What's a trigger if not to expel something lodged deep inside.
Encased. Enclosed. Ensconced.
A secret. But at whose expense?
Discomfort. Dis-ease. Distant.
Distant from the life She lives today.
The life She deserves.
The life She created.
The life She so wants to reclaim.
The trigger rang the doorbell at 8:10a.m.
Confusion. Cloudiness. Chaos within.
Sorting protective layers of survival.
Once firmly pressed down, sheet by sheet, as She kept climbing ahead.
Now the layers are rippled, exposing the spaces wanting to be healed.
She Says It's Time.
Time to go dark. Time to go deep. Time to let go.
It's Time to Speak.
It's Time to Expose.
Expose not the illness of another, but Her experience.
The trigger clicked.
Retraction is not an option.

Sunday, July 17, 2016

Unraveling

It's a word that has come up quite a bit lately.

First, it was used multiple times while doing exactly that with a little more than acres of electric fence tape. Five individual strands were wound together, criss-crossing around a long pressure treated post to make it easier to store and transport. No one thought about the unwind.

Then it was an emotional meltdown last Sunday. I'm not sure I used the word unravel, but it sure was a great description of my state of mind.

Yesterday, it came up again. This time, it was attempting to start a new roll of toilet tissue. There were pieces flying all over the place, big, little, long strips, tiny specs, and I was digging down two layers before I could get that bugger started.

So, what is it about that word? Is it my life unraveling before my eyes? Is it unraveling the binds of the past few years, strung so tightly while desperately holding us all together, waiting for our own space to appear? Is there a mystery somewhere deep down inside that with some crafty soul unraveling, I'll become much wiser?

Or is it as my friend, Mark, said to me while I was grunting and snorting and rejecting any pause in progress of unraveling that danged electric tape: "With a little bit of patience, we can get this done."

Well, such a simple statement for such a huge undertaking. But what about that? What about recognizing that as this new chapter page turns, awaiting the words to be written, patience will lay it out nicely, line by line, at the pace of a relaxed Sunday reader. It's my story. I'm the author. With what word will I choose to begin?

We got that post unraveled. And now with that tape I am creating a new space for my family.

Patience. Who knew!

Unraveling

It's a word that has come up quite a bit lately.

First, it was used multiple times while doing exactly that with a little more than acres of electric fence tape. Five individual strands were wound together, criss-crossing around a long pressure treated post to make it easier to store and transport. No one thought about the unwind.

Then it was an emotional meltdown last Sunday. I'm not sure I used the word unravel, but it sure was a great description of my state of mind.

Yesterday, it came up again. This time, it was attempting to start a new roll of toilet tissue. There were pieces flying all over the place, big, little, long strips, tiny specs, and I was digging down two layers before I could get that bugger started.

So, what is it about that word? Is it my life unraveling before my eyes? Is it unraveling the binds of the past few years, strung so tightly while desperately holding us all together, waiting for our own space to appear? Is there a mystery somewhere deep down inside that with some crafty soul unraveling, I'll become much wiser?

Or is it as my friend, Mark, said to me while I was grunting and snorting and rejecting any pause in progress of unraveling that danged electric tape: "With a little bit of patience, we can get this done."

Well, such a simple statement for such a huge undertaking. But what about that? What about recognizing that as this new chapter page turns, awaiting the words to be written, patience will lay it out nicely, line by line, at the pace of a relaxed Sunday reader. It's my story. I'm the author. How will I choose to start this?

We got that post unraveled. And now with that tape I am creating a new space for my family.

Patience. Who knew!