ruby tuesday

source

I find myself sunk by a wave of sadness.  It feels like everyday lately has been a test of my willpower and resolve.  Forced to say goodbye to light parts of myself and this darkness feels heavier than normal.

Leaving myself open to ridicule, I admit that saying goodbye to my pet rabbit Ruby on Tuesday has been the proverbial straw.  I've just had enough.

It's funny how that 'enough' line keeps moving.

I feel like my empathy is being eroded, my patience withered - as I become more bitter and twisted in a job I loathe, surrounded by narcissistic assholes that I just can't stand.  Worst of all? The reality that I let it happen.  That somewhere along the line I relinquished the control. I hate myself for becoming this hateful person.

I'm not sure how to describe this place I find myself in. I know where I am, and I know that I should be scared, that I should want to be around people and talk and laugh - but I don't. I just don't.  I can see the sun shining through the canopy of crap, but I want to be alone for a while.

I want to sit in this place and gather strength, so that I may go backwards to find the pieces of bundle I dropped from my basket, to find those parts of me that need to be revived, buffed, shined and re-installed.

Bah! Humbug!

by Sour Taffy (source)

I just can't do it.  No matter what I do, the 'spirit' of Christmas eludes me.  The season has all but snuck up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder like a friend long time missed - but instead of embracing it, I feel a bit 'meh' about it all.

Perhaps the collective hours I have spent sitting in doctors waiting rooms lately has sucked the joy right outta me; or because my world's just not as exciting without eye make-up, or maybe it's because time seems to be moving so freakin' fast these days - Tuesdays turn to Thursdays, and Monday mornings pop up in a flash and all the while I feel like I'm moving nowhere.  Then there's that pesky Mayan calendar theory that might just blow my world to smithereens - which would personally be a giant piss-off, seeing as I spent hours yesterday wrapping presents - oh, and because I'd like to fall in love before I die. Call me a pessimist, but I don't think 6, or 19 days is going to be quite enough time for me to achieve that one.

At the moment things are all lemon juice and All Bran, as opposed to 'beer and skittles'.  If everyone else's life is a party, I'm the one stuck in a toilet cubicle.

the things I didn't know

the amazing source

When I look at this picture I feel less alone. Maybe because it looks something like hope.

I had been doing fine in life. I had been getting along as best I could. Then I went and did something stupid like go wandering in the facebook woods alone, unprepared for what I would stumble upon.  I stalked John and found something surprising and confusing.

His profile had disappeared for a while - it's not like I did a weekly check or anything, but last time I did, he wasn't there.  Last night however - he was back.  He has a new relationship - which he actually declared on his page - she is a perfectly ordinary looking woman - with a baby.  There were photos of him and her (with the little him) plastered all over, and all I could think was that he looked happy - really, honestly happy.  It seems like finally he has the instant family he said he always wanted. I'm not sure why it shook me so much - but I was left reeling.  One moment I'm finishing a late night cup of tea, and the next I'm discovering things that required much more emotional intelligence than I was able to muster on a Sunday evening.  What the hell happened while I was drinking my cup of tea?

I'm not sure why I've reacted this way.  Perhaps I'm jealous, or disappointed that it wasn't me who put that joyful twinkle back in his eye. Or maybe it's just that I wish I had the pictures to prove I'd moved forward. Truthfully - she looks like the kind of girl I would get along with, be friends with even. Further truths be known, I'm almost relieved to find he's no longer with the other one - the bad apple.

Anyway, I guess these are just the kind of flips and dives that life takes, even when you think it's moving predictably straight. It's a reminder, not to be complacent.

new found wisdom

THE BEAUTIFUL SOURCE

'The Journey'

by Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice --

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

"Mend my life!"

each voice cried.

But you didn't stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,determined to do

the only thing you could do --

determined to save

the only life you could save.

I hadn't heard of this poem before today, so it seems lucky that it would work its way to me at a time I find myself still cold, withdrawn and in physical pain. The artwork from Jeannie Lynn Paske just seems to say exactly what I can't put words to.

I look forward to my own version of the day Mary Oliver describes.

a holy tussle

mydeadpony

I want to be the hand of a painter, as it brushes the canvas in a free stroke, mixing colours, making lines - making a mark.

A bird in flight - feeling the cool wind on my face - faster, faster through the clouds. Never alone, never far away from anywhere.  Able to leave when I so desire, on my own steam.

I want to be a delicate ballerina, floating on notes, dancing in the air - light as a feather that falls. Pretty as a picture - all tulle and pink and ribbon silk.

To be a flower to grace the hair, that falls across the face of beauty.

The light from a star. An ocean spray. The shadow of a tree. Defined, but free.

Perhaps in the next life I could choose to be me, again, but this time be a different version of myself.  Say 'yes' where I once said 'no' - 'maybe' where I once said 'yes' and 'never' every time some one, or some thing - real or no, tried to put me down - even if it is myself. Freedom isn't so easy - to have opportunity to strive for anything you want, but be incapable of deciding where to take aim is cruelty of the highest order. This is my defining trait. This is my struggle.

SB

singing in the rain

 "Fowl with Pearls" by Michael Sowa

 
A bird doesn't sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song.
Lou Holtz

SB

there's still time

the talent

SB

pretty, empty things

I have a penchant for buying pretty journals that I fail to fill.  My desk drawers are full of books with empty pages.  Still, whenever I find one that catches my eye - I can't bear to leave it behind.  I found one such notebook while shopping last weekend.

It still sits empty, but it has lead me to a talent named Raphaël. Check it out, because I will be.

Also - I think I may be part mermaid - I too have a great fear of shallow living, but I also fear some depths...

More to come.

SB xx