Lost and found

I brought the netbook outside, there aren't many days left where I could sit on the balcony and work or write away. The cold is late, meaning it will hit hard once it's here. 

This is turning to be a dry Autumn, but I am enjoying every bit of it all the same. When the rain is here eventually, I will be ready, like I always am for rain, any time of the year.

The year is drawing to an end soon, I have thought about the blog so many times, and I think with the year ending, I would have had finished a full cycle. I am most probably going to stop blogging after that, and will return to the notebook and pen. 

So much was healed this year, most of what matters the most was kept outside the blog, but I'm itching again and again to pour my heart out on paper.

Perhaps I will manage to start one of the many book projects I had in mind all those years back, or maybe I will be able to journal regularly, and methodically. 

I have found a solution for my anxiety, my mind is not racing anymore, I am able to process thoughts and emotions at a slower pace, without adding extra pressure or feel more pain. 

My 40 didn't come out at all the way I had hoped or figured it would be, but I in lots of ways, I am happy I've put a nice and neat ending to a lot of lose ends. 

The priorities have shifted and keep shifting, perceptions too.

 I'm only just grateful to be so blessed, with everything lost, and everything gained, along the way... 

Beyond

It is safe to say that I am depressed.
In fact, it's a little beyond and more than just a depression.
Oftentimes, I keep myself sane by focusing on my own little things, inside my own little world, inside the bubble. Most of the times too, especially lately, the bubble is being busted, by the harsh reality of doing the living inside the Lebanon. 
I caught myself off guard today, feeling rather victorious, having checked the prices of things on different apps and web pages, and comparing them to the convenience store nearby. I ended up doing a mix of all, saving myself a good few Lebanese pounds on my grocery shopping.
Not only has the life quality of late deteriorated, and drastically so, but also my surviving skills has escalated to be the new center of my existence. I realized today too, that not only do I feel victorious and proud after smart planning and execution of my house keeping, house management and economics, but that I have become obsessive, impulsive, and developed anxiety too. 
I can't deny that the hard, rather peculiar, life that I lead up until the moment before the eruption of 2020 has helped me develop good survival skills, become very resilient, and be an extremely patient person, all of which has truly helped - and is helping, in carrying on steady, and with miraculous hope in these days. However, I am starting to worry for myself, for I'm dwindling away, ever so slowly, on the inside. 
My mind isn't as sharp anymore, I'm unable to process emotions and feelings properly either, my body is thankfully holding up still, but I'm getting new chronic pains, and the old ones keep reappearing. 
I'm aware that I need to keep carrying on for some time longer, for this is only just the beginning, but I must change something, or else, I must have someone help me. Help isn't help, help is presence, and presence is nonexistent!
If I had any hope in finding a partner before this wild storm, it is now gone for sure, for people are, unforunately, especially the people of this country, more than ever before, totally lost, shallow, empty, seeking instant gratification in their very breath, escaping their very shadows, creating worlds of illusions, delusional, and disheartened. 
Alas these are very gloomy days, and this post is but a mere diary entry. 
When is this going to end, slow down, or speed up, nobody knows.
One thing for sure is, 
and I've said it oh so many times in here it tires me to even think about it, but...
I'm exhausted!

Humdrum

This morning smells of unfulfilled dreams and broken promises. 
It smells of burned sage and lavender leaves, also the mix of burned cookies and popcorn from the night before. 
There's darkness creeping up on my heart, eating me away, I am sad and disappointed, and frustrated at my very disappointment.
I'm grieving my unborn children this morning, I could almost see their faces. 
There's darkness that's pulling me down, I must stay alone, to preserve my light, to stay in the light, to serve the light. 
There are pains and untreated, unhealed traumas that people carry around them wherever they go, mostly the back, mostly the torso, mostly the heart, mostly the shoulders, the hips too. 
I am scared for myself, I am worried for the people, I used to have hope, it's dwindling away... 
I'm in between different worlds and several separate realities, autumn has proven to be of most importance this way, it pulls me up, takes me away, and throws me somewhere new... 
I'm learning and discovering and exploring new realms. 
My anxiety and concern keeps raising, I can't even remember what safety feels like.  
Autonomy seems to be key, just like now, just like before, just like when I was a child, just like when I was bearing or raising a child, just like when I was anticipating bearing a child. 

The house smells of broken promises and sad, aching hearts. Also of newly put out carpets and rugs. The full moon is upon us, but who cares what a mere plasma does or reflects. Our entire reality seems to be a constant reflection and projection of our inner worlds, which is shaped by pain and more disappointments. 

To be love, to do love is already a forgotten thing, what remains is the aftermath of battles beaten hearts, that beat randomly, messily, and a breath that could hardly make it through the lungs, let alone, out.

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... 

Everything in between

Today I don't want to write the words, I need for the words to write me. 

I'm fluid and soft and sweet, I'm tender and flowing. 

Today I wish to surrender to the misty morning breeze. 

The clouds are pretty, they promise of Autumn. 

I need pretty, and clouds. I could do with fulfilled promises. 

Today I'm warm and nice, today it's warm and nice, and flowing... 

I'm earth and land and sweet little things. 

I'm colors and textures and flavors. 

Today I am mother, and child. 

Today I am gestation,

and embryo. 

Today I am life, and death, and everything in between. 

Today I am manifestation, 

and the dream. 

The light, and the tunnel

The anniversary of our last move was two days ago. On the 28th August 2020 I moved with Yasmina to our current apartment. It has been a healing home for us, I am grateful for all that lead me to being here, at this time and space. 

We didn't celebrate, a cake usually would be the staple thing to get for such occasions. Though we seldom need an occasion really for cake, cake is life! However, I have been cleansing on the inside too, which meant eating much cleaner, and refraining from emotional / binge / comfort eating. When I get the cravings these days, I turn to healthier foods and ingredients. It almost feels bad how luxurious this is now, as prices of things have skyrocketed lately, and keep on doing so exponentially. Nothing makes sense in this country anymore. Still...

The price of my self sabotaging has been quite high, and drained me for so long. I find myself once again face to face with harsh realities, re-evaluating things, concepts, people, lessons, results. I'm at peace with where I am now, even though it could be temporary, even though it could be a passing phase...

Another stage of cleansing has been purging, removing Chris even more from my system. I managed to throw away jewelry pieces, documents, files, letters, recordings, writings, and much more that I simply could not have parted with before - nor thought was ever needed. Clinging to last bits of memories, feel good trinkets, and bitter sweet sounds.

I am grateful for all that has lead me to here and now, and for that misty morning breeze that promises of colder days, and cleansing rain. Two days away from September? Heart is already joyful! 

There are still mornings when I open my bedroom door and look at the floor and imagine how things would've been if cat was here; the excitement for the morning sun, the balcony, the birds, the privilege of access to the forbidden corners, the morning cuddles, the kneading, the purring. I'm convinced the thinking of cat is much more rewarding and hassle-free than cat herself. Life is strange, and beautiful in its own way. 

I'm trying to no avail recalling how the first morning after our move felt like, people, events, details are missing from my memory, save from one very striking incident, on the second night of being here. It was a heartbreak, a new one, of a new kind too, by a friend, a close one. Did it really take me a whole year to finally come to terms with how to truly treat mistreatments, judge misjudgments, stop, refuse, reject, return to sender intentional harm? 

Yes, and it could have taken me much longer too, and I could have (might have still) lead a rather naiive existence, believing like an innocent little child that love would prevail in the end always. 

If this year has taught me anything, it would be to the lesson of never losing touch with the reality of people, which is very different than mine. Never forget that good and evil, which concept I was never truly accepting of, is indeed embedded in everything humans see, touch, say and do.  

I remain to lead a life that stems, and root for, the light, but now I know to be wary of the dark, for it has consumed so many people, and what's worse yet, is that they have forgotten about it even happening at the first place. 

"If you want to change the world . . . love a woman — really love her.

Find the one who calls to your soul, who doesn’t make sense.

Throw away your check list and put your ear to her heart and listen.

Hear the names, the prayers, the songs of every living thing —

every winged one, every furry and scaled one,

every underground and underwater one, every green and flowering one,

every not yet born and dying one . . . 

Hear their melancholy praises back to the One who gave them life.

If you haven’t heard your own name yet, you haven’t listened long enough.

If your eyes aren’t filled with tears, if you aren’t bowing at her feet,

you haven’t ever grieved having almost lost her.

If you want to change the world . . . love a woman — one woman

beyond yourself, beyond desire and reason,

beyond your male preferences for youth, beauty and variety

and all your superficial concepts of freedom.

We have given ourselves so many choices

we have forgotten that true liberation

comes from standing in the middle of the soul’s fire

and burning through our resistance to Love.

There is only one Goddess.

Look into Her eyes and see-really see

if she is the one to bring the axe to your head.

If not, walk away. Right now.

Don’t waste time “trying.”

Know that your decision has nothing to do with her

because ultimately it’s not with who,

but when we choose to surrender.

If you want to change the world . . . love a woman.

Love her for life — beyond your fear of death,

beyond your fear of being manipulated

by the Mother inside your head.

Don’t tell her you’re willing to die for her.

Say you’re willing to LIVE with her,

plant trees with her and watch them grow.

Be her hero by telling her how beautiful she is in her vulnerable majesty,

by helping her to remember every day that she IS Goddess

through your adoration and devotion.

If you want to change the world . . . love a woman

in all her faces, through all her seasons

and she will heal you of your double-mindedness and half-heartedness

which keeps your Spirit and body separate — which keeps you alone and always looking outside your Self for something to make your life worth living.

There will always be another woman.

Soon the new shiny one will become the old dull one

and you’ll grow restless again, trading in women like cars,

trading in the Goddess for the latest object of your desire.

Man doesn’t need any more choices.

What man needs is Woman, the Way of the Feminine,

of Patience and Compassion, non-seeking, non-doing,

of breathing in one place and sinking deep intertwining roots

strong enough to hold the Earth together

while she shakes off the cement and steel from her skin.

If you want to change the world . . . love a woman — just one woman.

Love and protect her as if she is the last holy vessel.

Love her through her fear of abandonment

which she has been holding for all of humanity.

No, the wound is not hers to heal alone.

No, she is not weak in her codependence.

If you want to change the world . . . love a woman

all the way through

until she believes you,

until her instincts, her visions, her voice, her art, her passion,

her wildness have returned to her — until she is a force of love more powerful

than all the political media demons who seek to devalue and destroy her.

If you want to change the world,

lay down your causes, your guns and protest signs.

Lay down your inner war, your righteous anger

and love a woman . . . 

beyond all of your striving for greatness,

beyond your tenacious quest for enlightenment.

The holy grail stands before you

if you would only take her in your arms

and let go of searching for something beyond this intimacy.

What if peace is a dream which can only be re-membered

through the heart of Woman?

What if a man’s love for Woman, the Way of the Feminine

is the key to opening Her heart?

If you want to change the world . . . love a woman

to the depths of your shadow,

to the highest reaches of your Being,

back to the Garden where you first met her,

to the gateway of the rainbow realm

where you walk through together as Light as One,

to the point of no return,

to the ends and the beginning of a new Earth."

 ~ Lisa Citore. 

Scared, saddened

Another day on this cursed land, my heart is heavy with so much pain for the people. A tragedy after the other, a roller-coaster of bad events that doesn't seem to be slowing down any time soon.

This is the land of no man, because men would've stopped this madness, men would've stood up for themselves and the weak, mean would've fought for the vulnerable, and spoke up!

Light has forsaken this patch of earth. Evil in many different forms and shapes keeps creeping up on the people.

It's a country that has forgotten what it means and entails to be human!

I'm scared and saddened, and preparing myself for the worst that is yet to come. 

A curse

Our country is drowning and fading into total darkness, while our men watch, silent, idly.

I'm forced to remember similar days around the wars and afterwardw, and I can't help but to remember father's composure, resilience, actions... Mostly his actions, during the war. What a man, a hero, a legacy. I was young and naive, grew up thinking men are like that... In a sense, I'm glad he's not around to see these jokes of men, tearing our country apart. 

I could never fathom when and how it started, this stagnation sickness, creeping up on our people, eating their souls away. Their hearts are cold and hard, their minds vacant...

What nightmare is this, what days, what times!

What a hell of a cursed land this is. 

Melting

Could you hold my face between your hands? I wish to bury my head in your lap. Please play with my wet hair, its a hard week, I need to cry.

Would you hold my hand, maybe squeeze a little? In fact, why don't you place both hands on my face, I need soothing, and warmth.

Please whisper to me nice little things, like the dreams I see you in, and the hopes of childhood, and my father's face.

Would you feed me please? I'm hungry, I need nourishing, and nurturing. Not the emotional kind of eating, but the one where you carefully and lovingly cook nature into a hearty meal, I need to eat your energy, your intention, your love. 

Please, please forgive my emotional state, I'm weak today, it's a hard week, but autumn is near, I promise to flourish again. 

I long for the light rain sounds, and your breathing. 

Can we go to bed soon? I need the sound of your snoring, like a baby needs a lullaby. 

Can you crush me inside your chest please? I've been too big for too long, make me small and little again, I miss us. 

I love us. You found me. What were the chances?! 

I'm hallucinating, maybe I have a fever, or maybe that's just the heat. 

Love me in August please, it's when I need it the most. 

Promise to make it up to you in the winter days, I turn 41... I still feel like I'm 1. 

Hold me and never let me go, for now, for a little, for as much as it's comfortable. 

i love You. 

Full sun

Daughter doesn't like it when I use the term "full sun". She's adament it's only ever just full moon, there is no such a thing as full sun. I explain to her in vain what it means to me when I use such expressions, and that we can use words and combinations of them to express anything at all. Language and communicating my thoughts, feelings and ideas are crucial to me, but the world doesn't care much about them, or me. 

I keep leading a very intense existence through this 2021, without being able to commit to posting daily like I said I would back in January, and boy do I miss the high spirits of that time of the year! 

These days, full sun is having its toll on me. It feels as though my mind is melting in the heat, but what concerns me the most, is my heart. Heart keeps expanding wanting to explode with love and everything grace and empathy and compassion and care, all year round, year in, year out. This crazy little thing in the center of my body is pulling all the threads in my life, dictating how naive I come across to some, good-hearted to others, soft and easy to some, and mere crazy to others. It is indeed crazy to lead a life with such fire within, continuously burning, warming, igniting, only just to go to waste. 

The most truest thing to say today would be that I feel as though my whole existence is going to waste. This is the very reason of my feeling depleted, depressed, saddened, angry. I have been feeling like this most of my life, often times confusing it for some sort of chemicals imbalance in my system! The imbalance is coming from the extremes, being too warm / hot, in an environment that is way too cold. 

I met with few different people recently, I made new friendship, let's see how long it would last before all pretenses come down. I met with old friends too, they drain my very soul, but what can I do but try and be out in the world once in a while, for fear of losing my mind totally. 

The most sweetest are the starved ones, they put effort, they show emotions, they reveal their truest thoughts, they share their ideal scenarios, dreams, intentions, and their hopes. If it comes with pride, it's even more luscious; the opening up is tasty, the resisting is alluring and enticing. Don't I know this type the most? Aren't I one? A pride starved mama bear alpha wolf woman damsel in distress? 

I'm holding my heart and carrying it through these most intense summer days, I'm praying for pain free nights, I'm counting the days for autumn, I'm longing for winter, I will come a full circle soon, and I hope I would have salvaged some dignity this time around, breaking a vicious circle, I broke a good few this year so far, more about that in another post. 

Matters of the heart / break the spell

I was born with a hole in my heart. 
I had jaundice at birth.
As an infant, I was admitted to the hospital frequently.
As a child, I had problems with the valves, and I ended up seeing doctors frequently, being in hospitals almost regularly, often poked around for all sorts of tests, having needles and whatnot injected in my system.

At the start of each scholar year, I would hand in a report from the doctor to school stating that I can not participate in any physical education activity. 
There was a period in my life where I had to go to a nurse living in the neighborhood, to get my regular injections. My mother wouldn't give it to me herself, although she worked as a nurse at one point in her life and she's well capable of doing it. I can't begin to explain just how painful all of this has been, on a soul level, but I accepted it all gracefully. She is mother, and I loved her. 

I would faint at stressful events, stressful events often meant a crowd of people... I remember my older brother frequently being the one jumping in to take me to the doctor or hospital.
When I turned nine years old, echo scanning came to the picture, it was bad. I had been so used to the heart tests by then, but the echo meant they applied a very thick gel to my bare chest, and I have started to become so shy and conscious of my growing body. And then there was this hard hand held tool, pressing it against my chest, sliding it too through the gel, so that they could see the heart state on the screen. It was very uncomfortable and invasive. I used to cringe, feel violated, and needed prolonged hours of comfort. In my head, it was a game we were all playing. That was not what was needed truly, for my heart to settle, but I played along, what else was there to do, I was only a child.

My heart was fine really, I could feel it overflowing with love, it was just not the case with the world, and I became lost. Abundance seemed to be illness, and scarcity normal. 

I learned how to shift the sail on this journey, soon after 
My first husband's name means "heart", he's the most heartless person I have ever encountered. 
Life is funny this way.

So much so, that when a supposedly very dear friend replied to one of my statements regarding a very important topic to me with "matters of the heart are luxury", I knew this was another joke of life. Him from all the people knows just how much I'm made from love, how that making has made me go through everything I went through. He was an eye witness to how someone can suffer from loving too much...

Matters of the heart are essential. 

Love is essential.

(to be continued...)