Time

“You can get most things back. The only thing you can’t get back is time.” - a wise friend, today


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Lessons

Yesterday, I was sad. That deep sort of overwhelming, penetrating sadness racked my soul. I went downstairs to get a hug from Hope and she told me, because I drank the night before, “alcohol is a depressant; this isn’t you. It’s ok I know what it’s like to feel sad for no reason.” Then she gave me some healthy suggestions of things I could do to help myself. She is so wise and so comforting to me. The relationship I share with her is unlike any other in my life and I feel grateful for her as a teacher and as a friend. She’s my greatest teacher, actually. I remember telling her that a couple summers ago as we sat under the trees and I watched a tear fall from her eye as the words hit her. Yes, she is my greatest teacher. And I’m glad she knows it.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Surgery

My mama went into surgery today, a bilateral hip replacement. I am insanely nervous for this, even though I’ve been reminded countless times by countless people that she should come out of nothing but perfect again, able to walk again without hobbling around like 90-something year old woman like she has been the last six or so months. Still, prayers please for a safe and healthy recovery. Om shanti shanti shanti. Blessings to you and yours.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Intuition

I had such a strong feeling this morning of feeling like I had forgotten something I needed on the way to work. Immediately after this intuitive feeling came on I realized I had left my make-up bag at home. I usually put my make-up on in the car on the way to work and was bare faced all day. I don’t wear a lot of make-up but my staples are cover up and mascara and I had neither on. But it was ok. I’m just weirded out by how strong my feeling was of having forgotten something — my intuitive senses really freak me out at times ... more later, when I can think of how to make this post more interesting


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Dreams 2

I awake suddenly from a nightmare, drenched in terror and sweat. It’s come to me again. What do I do with this? I have dreams of my family dying, of the future in a post-apocalyptic dystopia. Robots everywhere. Bees extinct. The dreams are tragic and difficult and I don’t know how to navigate why I’m having them. My mom says they’re just nightmares; “do you know how many times I had nightmares of my Grandmother dying and gosh, she lived to 75.”
I’m not convinced. My dreams take hold of me, these ... nightmares. As I was just typing ‘nightmares’ my phone autocorrected to ‘blessings’. Are they blessings? Warnings? What?

I cry for hours in my bed, tear soaked & mascara stained sheets. I’m training myself in how to be lonely while alone. That it’s ok. It is ok.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Do you?

Things that should be asked, often, in every type of relationship: how is your heart? Is your breath happy here? Do you feel free?
—nayyirah waheed


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Grandpa

When my grandfather died when I was 13, I can remember my dad turning around in his seat to my sisters in the back of the car telling us, girls, this isn’t grandpa anymore, what you’re going to see here is just his shell. That stuck with me. We have these human bodies we walk around containing the entire universe inside of us. When we leave our human bodies, all that’s left in this physical world is our shell.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

That Inner Voice

I was talking to a friend earlier today about the curiosity that our inner selves have for traumatic or extreme situations, even when they’re going on. We spoke about how interesting is that, even during some sort of crisis occurring, that there can be that ongoing narrative that removes us, just a little bit, from the crisis at hand. I believe it’s this voice that can keep us complete succumbing to the tragedy (or even triumph and beauty, depends on scenario at hand). I believe this voice in the back of mind, is the one that keeps me writing and just teetering over to the side of the sane. Perhaps madness is genius though, as the saying goes. Who’s to say a crisis so pervasive and LARGE couldn’t topple me down to the other side. I do know that the curiosity to experience all things, though, would still be present. At least, eventually.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone