Where i was..

September13 017

 

I tried the other side.

The backdoor escape.

Dishonestly provoking an ease never meant for me.

And we couldn’t meet eye to eye, this ease and I.

Dashing and daring,

step after clumsy step,

knowing our dysfunction.

And then one day ease left me

and gifted me a burden that made me move a little slower.

A little closer to the ground

until I finally felt where I was.

Kept close

Virginia 176

The load was getting too heavy.

Knees buckling under the pressure that was self imposed.

She wasn’t supposed to carry the weight of expectation like this.

But here she was, tumbling towards the hard truth.

Clinging to a burden that would slip away as soon as she would decide to let it go.

But clinging is what you do when you fall.

Reaching out for what’s near.

Making what she allowed close to her matter more than she realized.

Because it would be the thing that she reached out for when life brought her to her knees.

Refuge

morris 072

 

 

She appeared like a break in the clouds.

Providing a shoulder for him to rest his head on.

His heavy head, full with noise.

It sounded like rain, though there wasn’t a drop.

Like sheets of it, tapping grey against windows.

And he covered his ears to dampen the sounds, but that only made them louder.

That’s what happens when storms rage inside.

Thundering shocks of commotion, disturbing the pieces he tried so hard to keep from shattering.

Like holding armfuls of glass.

Every piece shaking after the thunder roll.

He walked through this tempest daily.

Looking for a place of refuge.

And he found it in the shelter of a dear friend.

One who stopped awhile to wait out the storm.

 

How’s the weather?

morris 084

 

 

I asked the wrong question.

I’d shown up for the conversation, willing to participate in the give and take, but backed off because of the direction we were going in.

I sensed that we were approaching difficult terrain, so I switched gears, causing the forward motion of our discourse to stutter and stall.

Awkward pauses when I saw where she was headed.

Much too bumpy a road for me.

Too sensitive a topic to maneuver – so I bailed.

Instead of asking the questions that may have lessened the load she carried, I kept things light.

I refused to dig in and meet her where she was.

Where she had not been just visiting, but living.

Residing in secrets cloaked in bright smiles and broad daylight.

And I felt it.

And I said nothing.

Perhaps for fear of seeing just how dark her darkness was.

Perhaps it brought me too close to my own struggle.

Perhaps it was the time it would take to get to the point.

Long journeys are difficult for impatient souls like mine.

I tend to ask “are we there yet?”

I lacked the time, or maybe it was the intention to ask the questions that she needed.

I kept it simple.

I asked about the weather.