Seeking Small Pleasures

A good day...

The day I took this photo was a good day. I spent a weekend morning working in a county far to the south of me, and the afternoon exploring. In my explorations I came across this wonderful old abandoned house and did not fight the compunction to explore it. Unfortunately I didn't have the courage to stay long, as I ventured up the stairs to further satisfy my curiosity, the wind began blowing the front door open and closed. I got a little spooked, and decided I had spent enough time there, at least alone. I do know, I will go back again someday. 'Tis a must.

One small pleasure I opened myself up to.

Today, was a bad day...
I asked myself why.
Was it because I only had four hours sleep last night?
Was it because not-soon-enough-to-be-ex-husband is playing games again?
Was it because I am still grieving?
Was it because I was On Top of the World only one week ago, so I kinda had to bottom out a bit?


One week ago...
I was happy, ecstatically dancing through the day and into the evening...I had passed my certification exam which had me patting myself on the back, and releasing the imaginary breath I had been holding since the day I took the exam almost a month ago. Plus, on Monday evening I did something I haven't done for several years, I gave a presentation to an audience to about seventeen of my elders, and had a blast doing it. I had forgotten how much fun I have giving presentations (fun when it is a subject I know well, which it was).


Just days later...

I plummeted far far down, I was on edge, barely able to maintain my composure.

So much going on...

and not going on...

It ain't over. The mediator has not yet filed her summary of the settlement, so dear not-soon-enough-to-be ex's attorney decided to create his own. As I quickly scanned the sixteen page document, I was pleasantly surprised, all appeared to be on the up and up, exactly as had been discussed. But, as I reread it, phrases began to pop out at me, small changes that can make a big difference in how it all plays out. Why? Was the intent to make me feel small? At first it worked, I did, I hated the fact that I felt manipulated again.

I'm still grieving over the loss of two people who once filled my life, my heart with such joy. Two people who I thought would be forever a part of my life. Gone now, in different ways, but still gone. Trying desperately to adjust to their absence.

I search to find the acceptance that all in life must change.

I make lists of all that I am grateful for in my life. I grasp each item or name on the list tightly, hugging them close. Seeking to accept them for what they are, small pleasures, treasures in my life.

Life goes on...each day...I breathe...I try to grow a tiny bit...I seek out beauty. I tell myself not many months ago I was getting through my days by breathing through just one minute, then just one hour, then I finally arrived to the point when I was breathing my way through a few hours.

Today I rarely have to tell myself to "Breathe, just breathe, you will survive this."

Today, I KNOW I will survive. Maybe not whole, but I will survive.

I breathe, I open up and search out that for which I am grateful. I search for beauty, for simplicity, for small pleasures and most importantly...for those I treasure.

I breathe freely...well...almost.

I am...

I am ...

A woman

With a full heart, hidden...

Somewhere in an empty room ...

With eyes not quite of autumn's gold, and yet

Neither all of summer's green;

I wonder ...

If love is a tale made for children --

A granting of sweet dreams in their innocence -

A honey-coating to help their throats choke down the bitter draught ...

I hear ...

A voice that whispers warnings, half-formed,

Bodiless as hope, until I swear I cannot draw

Another breath unless this spectre be unmasked,

His lies mangled ‘neath my righteous tread;

I see ...

A woman, proud, uncompromising,

Diaphanous as air -- less, even, than the tears

That fall in desolation about her weary feet,

Salt poison pooled upon the withered ground ...

I want ...

A measure of quietude, a certain silence,

The echo of alone which heals me of dreaming,

The nothing that stills the wanting,

The numb, the cold that laughs at pain;

I am

A woman,

hidden ...

I pretend ...

That I can live forever -- that Time

Has no puissance but that which I afford Him --

And so, I can wait, I can be happy tomorrow,

Sleep is for the dead; but its ghosts haunt my waking ...

I feel ...

Too much -- too deeply to be directionless,

Too real for imagining, and yet the familiar eyes

Hold nothing of recognition -- only my reflection --

A meeting of shadows in sunlit glass;

I touch ...

The downy wings of hope, in wonder,

In reverence, in need, in hunger;

Alas, it burns my fingers as a flame,

A sacrilege, self-defined ...

I worry ...

That I am alone; that in my longing

I have forsaken all -- but oh, what reward,

What smile divine should light the path to freedom --

And how can I but heed the siren's call?

I cry ...

For having too much, for fear of bursting,

And then, when by the pouring of my soul

I lie, a vessel emptied, I cry again

For what was had, and lost;

I am

A woman,

empty ...

I understand

That life is what you make it,

That sometimes, the coat of many colors

That marks your triumphs brightly, blends only

To loneliest of grey ...

I say

That we are made by life, shaped,

Broken, perhaps -- unmade and voided --

But always, the core of us remains, waiting

With only faith, with trust, to be reborn;

I dream

Of bluest waters, reaching

With unnatural hands toward the faded sky,

Of dolphins that wander in seas without limits,

Carrying me water-breathing past corals and clouds ...

I try ...

To lead by example, knowing

That merely the telling holds no power;

A gift of giving is merely a day, while

A gift of knowing spans forever;

I hope ...

That my darkness holds you gently,

That pain is halved by sharing, that feeling

Wields nothing past the words it summons,

Except that it touch you with only healing ...

I am

A woman,

only.

~Author Unknown~