Compartmentalisation

With the change of seasons, the end of cycles, certain truths are usually revealed. 
I lived my whole life distrusting my hunch, confusing it for projections, or subjective, pain filtered reality.
This is no longer the case, as new realms were very clearly and directly revealed to me this summer past. 
I was overcome with joy and sadness at it happening, a new level of trust relationship with myself was formed, and a big baggage of fake, distorted, and twisted old concepts was let go of.

The same happens on a micro level, with the passing of the days, after each night; at dawn, secrets are very clearly revealed. I have always been an early morning person, life seems to be much more fathomable to me when the world was asleep and quiet. I could better connect with the idea of our existence, and make sense of my own.

The hustle and bustle of life, the people, all the actions, the noise, seems to be very confusing and distorting to me, as nothing of it ever made sense. The talking and the indoctrination and the philosophies seems to always be missing the essence of life, in the way I see it.

This blog is an attempt to connect with so many of which I have lived my whole life blocking out. Realities within realities, drawing a picture of the complexity of being a human, a woman, and a mother, at this time and age. 

My morning writing ritual was supposed to help me unblock and unlock a lot of my own resistance, a life long of avoiding processing trauma, dissecting pain, and applying understanding to it. 

Every time I fail to convey what I wish to say, think or achieve, mentally and with words, like now, and most other blog posts, especially the ones non written, I come face to face with the realization that I'm still far behind restoring my default setting. 

I can't remember the last time my mind was sharp and straight, though heart is always on point. 

I wish to connect with the words again, and perhaps in ways I've never used before, in order to convey what's inside my head, and to help my head compartmentalise what's outside of it.

Your abundant heart

I watched you sleep quietly. 

If there is a face for my prayer, your sleeping face was it.

You are the prayer, the answer too. 

A gift, a message, a blessing.

I listened to your faint breathing.

Why aren't you breathing deeply, why aren't you breathing loudly, why so quiet?

Take up space! Fill up your lungs with life. Soar... 

Your eyes twitched a hundred times, you smiled too.

My heart smiled with you. 

I thought I couldn't love you more in your usual full chatter mode, and then came your sleep and still mode. I melted a little.

A promise to myself to get a little bit less poetic, as soon as the novelty of learning about your existence has faded away. 

In the meantime, I prepared my achy heart to fathom the richness of your being.  

Show me more, I can take you, all of you. 

Show my heart a matching abundance.

I thought I was alone...

and then came you.

May you have the most deepest, most peaceful of sleeps. May the most soothing and heart filling dreams visit your mind. May your soul know limitless joy, in your sleep, or waking. 

Bird poop

The rain is here, it stayed, so did birdie. It flew away in the morning, making flapping sounds which woke me up. 

The floor where it stayed is covered by poop, I'm used to cleaning that up at this stage. It feels both weird and nice to have these visitors. 

The rain is here, it stayed, making my chest expand with so much joy and gratitude. 

The rain is cleaning and cleansing, another harsh summer is behind us, a new passage, a new chapter, and beautiful clouds enclosing me, for repair. 

The rain is here, it's staying, for a good while. 

I will rejoice. 

 

Petrichor

It rained for the second time few hours ago. More rain poured down this time around, and for a longer period. It was oh so beautiful, and the smell, heavenly!

A new bird lays on the balcony again, he / she came a couple of hours before the rain. It's resting in the corner of the balcony floor now, the angle opposite where I sleep. I have the curtains wide open, and the window ajar. The clouds are nice and bright, thanks to the full moon. The air is fresh and clean. I will give in to sleep soon, I hope the bird enjoys the view. 

September is bitter sweet... 

The aftermath

I swat profusely last night. Odd, very odd, especially considering the weather drastically changing. 
I haven't had a good night sleep in so long, napping is proving to be tricky too. Everything is messing up with my mind, disrupting my inner clock, compass too. 

There's a cricket on the balcony on his back, he's dying. I've had good few of those lately, and I get excited over the idea of keeping them to use later on in art projects, but they seem to always disappear. I'm assuming the birds are eating them. 

We've had many birds visiting lately too, at one point, a bird stayed throughout the night, till the morning. The floor was covered with bird poop. I tried to read into it, I got different clashing inputs from different friends. The same with the praying mantis last year, it stayed on our balcony for more than a weak. 

Summer is officially over, the morning air is so fresh and beautiful, the crickets slowing down on their singing activity is leaving room for the birds songs to be heard again. 

The sun doesn't shine fully through my room anymore, it covers a little part of my bed in the morning, soon enough it will be out of sight totally.

I'm so grateful and thankful I made it through summer, now however, the aftermath. 

My nervous system is out of whack.

I need resting. 

I'm ready for the rain. 

Full circle

When I focus long enough, I could almost see you. You're sitting on a chair on the balcony, your back to the mountain, you're facing me. You're looking at me lying on my floor bed, you see it all, my pain and the bruises.

I could almost see you now, father, and I feel your stare, and I'm hearing your silence.

How fortunate have I been to come from you, to be like you, to long for you. What blessing, what bliss. 

I'll bare this new pain courageously, it's enough for me if only you know, if only you see.

I miss your very heart, your mind, and your hands. Oh how just how I miss your hands.

I'll cry myself to sleep tonight. I'll hum a little tune, will recall your scent, your face, and the touch of your most warmest, most safest, most generous hands, and will drift to sleep.

Carry me in the dream please, I need your strength tonight, if only just for a brief moment.

Weaning

The hardest thing to write today would be the truest. 
Heart is oh so heavy, though it rained. 
14th September, first rain, and a new cat. 
New and old pain, new and old ways, new and old realizations. 

The truest thing to write  today would be that I am shattered.
I need comfort and warmth and thoughtful gestures and loving actions, and the realest and most genuine of intentions, and the most honest of words, and meaningful wordings.

Heart feels like a soft dough that went off, having expanded but now shrinking.

The truest thing to write today would be that I miss you, and the losing myself in you, and the harm too.

This is how damaged I am, I miss you, and I learn how to let you go of my world, a little bit more with every new day. 

You used to be sun and moon and all the seasons, and now I pray for the seasons to wean me off you, and heal me from you. 

Fade in

Count the blessings, remember. 
Walk the talk, listen. 
Fade out, then come again. 

Birth,
nurture,
give,
surrender. 

Surrender, 
surrender. 

Open the door,
Let the sun shine through that cracked window,
do not fear. 

He is Sun, and moon, 
Earth and sky,
life and death,
the reason, the seen, 

and the unseen. 

Cry, if you must, 
but no more bleeding.

Stop,
the scar will heal,
He will heal it for you,
Just like He does your aching heart, 
just like He did,
all those many times before.

Remember,
you as a child,
you as a baby, 
you as an embryo,
remember, you were never alone, 
just remember.

He's there, 
now too,
Him and his, 
remember,
surrender. 

It's OK to cry,
weep if you must,
but...

Surrender,
to the pain.

Accept the healing, 
receive. 

He's salve and salvation.

Just breathe.

You...

There's loving you,

and then there's the longing, the waiting to be with you. 

I love the very longing, though it pains me. 

Your face when I see you... 

I love the very waiting to see your face. 

The anticipation thrills me with joy and sadness. 

But there's always your face, makes me remember and forget oh so many things. 

How could you possibly be so unique this way, and all the other ways.

I love the very resisting of you too...