where are we?! Have I lost you? Have we lost ourselves? It's something we have to get around to asking everyoncenawhile. Are the words gone? When we only have our intermittent vocal/visuals/touchingbase-
It's not that October has been that bad to us right? Maybe it's just fall out from the preceding months of grim penniless existences- though my mom is God's provision for me, i still can't help but think I'm cheating? Maybe that's it. I haven't been too busy selling gold and trimming hedges. My butterfly LIVES. Why didn't I jump right on and tell the story of that, I helped to save it. I pinned its silken tail to an ivy wall and it lived, or wandering by a creek just yesterday. Glorious, in the heat of the blue and the invasive reeds rising out over the rushing water- talking about gold flecks and floating down stream. Or last Thursday breaking up with Prayer Council- i tried. The blog was called 'Cutting Ties'. 90% good 10%bullshit. The subject. The feeling of it. The truth of it. My life taking a deviation after 8 years of 1/2 living, of skyrocketing spiritual insightness and church stuff. Snip. Snip. Griiiind. Slowly beginning to turn the ship- but i can't pack for it. I don't have money to shop for it. I could start to study korean if i believed i was going. I'm reading a blog. I need to start getting into the korean soaps. But the list stops there in the 'waiting for paperwork' column. Has it been such a long preperation with so little physically to show for it. And the things, just breaking off and into the goodwill bag one agonizing minute at a time since? I've been doing this for months and months.
I'm cutting the roof of my mouth on the nuts in my appleflaxseed muffins. And i still can't articulate anything between the mint gum now and the lifetime movie starring FaithfromBuffy. And nordrack rejecting me, and the CAcreditunion accepting me. What else is there? I was just telling somebody the other day it's the little things in life that are fascinating. Just because it's no longer new to you doesn't mean it's no longer interesting and i'm sure the obsessive running of diagnostic reports, defragmenting, disk cleaning must look like something from the outside. If only i could tell a story about it. Or express the feeling of being stuck. Or on a steep and brutal descent. And how that must draw you inward and deep to a quiet breathing hard and trying not to go shallow kind of place after you've just fallen or slipped and went near to dangling. We're struck in the chest intermittently by a wave of panic or a feeling of wrongness as we walk. We think, what was that. What am i feeling bad about. It strikes fast and we have to chase it down and it takes a while and we think, oh that's right. Right. Ok. And we go back to what we're doing. Shake it off. We breathe a little better.
We relook at the lists, and the calendar, and the balances, the weather, the news, the FB, and we think ok. Check. Reoriented. I haven't forgotten something. It hasn't slipped off like the other pieces of gear in the fall. I still have those things. I'm watching. I'm x-ing off the days feeling half alive with a sinus cough, chronic aches, that the rest must be dreaming. That the rest must not be for the looking. I have only so many things I can take in where I'm at. Not more. Not that. Not those jobs. Or that list. Or that project. Or the words. Not those. It's too much.
m.
It's not that October has been that bad to us right? Maybe it's just fall out from the preceding months of grim penniless existences- though my mom is God's provision for me, i still can't help but think I'm cheating? Maybe that's it. I haven't been too busy selling gold and trimming hedges. My butterfly LIVES. Why didn't I jump right on and tell the story of that, I helped to save it. I pinned its silken tail to an ivy wall and it lived, or wandering by a creek just yesterday. Glorious, in the heat of the blue and the invasive reeds rising out over the rushing water- talking about gold flecks and floating down stream. Or last Thursday breaking up with Prayer Council- i tried. The blog was called 'Cutting Ties'. 90% good 10%bullshit. The subject. The feeling of it. The truth of it. My life taking a deviation after 8 years of 1/2 living, of skyrocketing spiritual insightness and church stuff. Snip. Snip. Griiiind. Slowly beginning to turn the ship- but i can't pack for it. I don't have money to shop for it. I could start to study korean if i believed i was going. I'm reading a blog. I need to start getting into the korean soaps. But the list stops there in the 'waiting for paperwork' column. Has it been such a long preperation with so little physically to show for it. And the things, just breaking off and into the goodwill bag one agonizing minute at a time since? I've been doing this for months and months.
I'm cutting the roof of my mouth on the nuts in my appleflaxseed muffins. And i still can't articulate anything between the mint gum now and the lifetime movie starring FaithfromBuffy. And nordrack rejecting me, and the CAcreditunion accepting me. What else is there? I was just telling somebody the other day it's the little things in life that are fascinating. Just because it's no longer new to you doesn't mean it's no longer interesting and i'm sure the obsessive running of diagnostic reports, defragmenting, disk cleaning must look like something from the outside. If only i could tell a story about it. Or express the feeling of being stuck. Or on a steep and brutal descent. And how that must draw you inward and deep to a quiet breathing hard and trying not to go shallow kind of place after you've just fallen or slipped and went near to dangling. We're struck in the chest intermittently by a wave of panic or a feeling of wrongness as we walk. We think, what was that. What am i feeling bad about. It strikes fast and we have to chase it down and it takes a while and we think, oh that's right. Right. Ok. And we go back to what we're doing. Shake it off. We breathe a little better.
We relook at the lists, and the calendar, and the balances, the weather, the news, the FB, and we think ok. Check. Reoriented. I haven't forgotten something. It hasn't slipped off like the other pieces of gear in the fall. I still have those things. I'm watching. I'm x-ing off the days feeling half alive with a sinus cough, chronic aches, that the rest must be dreaming. That the rest must not be for the looking. I have only so many things I can take in where I'm at. Not more. Not that. Not those jobs. Or that list. Or that project. Or the words. Not those. It's too much.
m.
1 comment:
yes. yes.
let's not lose the words, however much we feel stuck. because, for some reason i can't articulate, i feel like it must be important. that we don't lose the words.
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