dangerous compassions

I call you / from the comet's cradle

Saturday, February 16, 2019

strawberry flower

advice I gave myself:
You're still getting better.  Be gentle with yourself.  Give yourself the maximum slack.  You need a lot of rest.  Don't expect too much.  It's ok to be sad for a while.

I was crying in the minivan about writing and money and families.  Success.  What people say to me, in real life rarely, and in my head often.  Church, skills, contributing.  Expectations.  Poverty, what people can afford, volunteering.  Where I belong and don't belong.

Then it was time to hear R play guitar.  It was raining.  It was cold.  I was sitting on a metal folding chair, letting my soul be soothed by the music.

Then we left, and I was crying more, but not with wordy reasons, just a deep sad in my body.  Wanting comfort.  Having painful memories.  Feeling that intimacy fails.

Then we got home and I cried in bed, more of the same.

Ming sliced mushrooms and chopped spinach in the food processor, and I cooked it up.  Wow, it's great.  I've been craving both.  I ate some veg sausage too, and there's rice. 

Then we're watching our friend's granddaughter while he and R visit someone in jail.  Ming's going to make us tea, and I will rest on the couch.

Life can be hard, but there's a good reward: life.  Like fruit is its own reward.  I realized one of my favorite flowers is the strawberry flower.

1 Comments:

  • At February 16, 2019 8:33 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Sorry you’ve been sad. I hope my email was helpful. I meant things might ease in a few days. Advice to myself too.

    Is the thing about writing about success or appreciation as a writer? I think of Leonard Cohen at the moment. He was a full time artist. He was a big deal. I am not a big deal. I squeeze in reading 4 Rilke poems between orders from my boss. I’m not sure if I am talented enough. Today I slung out the start of 3 novels. Terrible. Maybe I am not passionate enough about anything. Maybe it’s the medication. As I think you have said it’s who you blow.

    I like your advice in the last paragraph “life is it’s own reward”.

    I’m hurting too. Let’s hurt together.

     

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