It Was Worth the Effort

Pain filled the rooms of my mind

Like a tidal wave of sin.

I couldn't make it stop.

The water crushed my soul

With a thousand pounds of pressure.

But I couldn't make it stop.

I crashed from the forces

Of evil as they marched in.

Please, I can't make it stop.

My lungs burned from the pain

My heart beat out of rhythm.

Will this ever stop?

As I lie on the floor, unable to move

From the pressure of the blows

I was.

Quiet waited with me

and after the storm had passed

I was still.

The wreckage surrounded me

And all was in pieces but

I was still me.

On my hands and knees

Soaked to the bone but alive

I was still me but

Forcing myself to rise

I let the new sun dry my clothes

I was still me but now

The strong warm breezes

cleared the water from my soul

I was still me but now wiser.

I picked up the pieces, determined to reassemble them only to find, in the end, a more beautiful picture than what was before. It was not easy looking at each piece and deciding where it should go. It was hard, in fact. But the picture, the new beautiful picture, was worth the effort.

Nature, Naturally

She walked down the path to the stream. Tired. So tired. Stopping, she lifted her face to the sun and breathed deeply. The smells of the field filled her.

Opening her eyes again, she decided the stream could wait.  Instead, she sat down in the soft tall grass, the earth's perfume surrounding her. Breathing it in again, she laid down. Now she had a pillow beneath her head. Stretching out her fingers, she ran them over the tops of the tendrils. Soft and strong.

Tears filled her eyes, ran down the sides of her face, and tickled her ears. A sob escaped from her chest and all of a sudden she was racked with cries from deep within. Over and over she let the waves take her as the sun continued to hang in the blue sky.

A sweet summer breeze rose up, from no particular direction, twirling. The grass swayed, danced really. The tender blades, gladly bending to the strength of the wind, tickled the girl's legs and arms. Soft explosive gusts dried the wetness from her cheeks leaving a salty residue, the only evidence she had mourned.

She was quiet now. Listening, she heard the grass and the stream, bubbling a few feet away. Hypnotized, at peace, she closed her eyes. It wasn't dark. The sun shone through her eyelids. Turning on her side, she eventually fell asleep.

New Start, My Heart

New Start, My Heart

I drew my head back and howled at the moon.

My heart bled down my chest, red pooling at my feet.

Why, oh why? I asked.

Weakness, exhaustion, and depression.

The moon set and the sun rose.

I drew my head back and squinted at the suns rising.

Sore, but no more bleeding, my heart’s beat was strong.

Thank you, oh thank you.  I said.

Recovery, stability, and strength.

I drew my head back and smiled at the noon sun.

My heart’s rhythm in time, happiness.

New start, my heart.  I said.

Rest, peace, and joy.

Removing Attachments

"The healing is then your job, instead of becoming offended by these deep soul divulges; you dive deeper into the relationship with yourself (not fixing the other person) to see what the root of the pain is from. It is also your partner’s job to do the same."  To read the whole article copy and past the link below into your browser:

http://thespiritscience.net/2014/07/26/how-to-remove-attachments-to-past-relationships/

I was in the same type of relationship the author describes.  It was the best and the worst.  It was the brightest and the darkest.  He and I both felt an immediate tie to each other and we never permanently let go through the very high ups and the very low downs.  I never felt love for another deep inside my soul as I did with him.  I never knew such profound peace and complete pain with another human being.  He and I were mirrors for each other.  So many times we reflected back the good and the bad.  Because of him, I became the true me.  Because of him, I changed my life's path by becoming honest with myself and chipping away at the caked-on blinders that inhibited me from really seeing.  My life is so much better for having known him.  

I learned a great deal and for that I am deeply grateful to him but I had to cut the cord.  The pain of breaking it off with him was phenomenal and more intense than I had ever experienced.  It would flood my brain, burn my soul, and cause me to feel physically depressed.  I can understand why, as the author noted, some turn to drugs or alcohol to numb the pain caused by it.  The agony was crippling at times and there was no question that I had to free myself from it.

I didn't cut the cord the way described by the author but it was a conscious effort for me and on multiple occasions I had to stop what I was doing to reject his psychic reaching out to me.  I had learned what I was meant to know and even though the relationship had been pared down to friendship, it still was poisonous.

I am finally not angry with him anymore or feel hurt when he crosses my mind.  Not that long ago I found that I could wish him love and wellness.  I want him to find peace because he deserves it and needs it.  Just not with me.

And Still

And still
It is no more
We are no more
Waiting for the memories to fade
From sharp to dull
Waiting for the distance to grow
From close to far
Waiting for the pain to cease
From wicked to sweet

I turn my head to the past
Looking back and seeing
What lacked.

I turn my head to the fore
Looking ahead and seeing
What?  More?

Inside room is made
For the music of rest
As Healing knits and sews
Weaves soft light
Into the fabric of my soul.

Alone with Time
Time for the rest
For the peace
So that forward becomes
Now
With a wholeness
A fullness
Awash in cool waters
Springing from the union
Of equality, peace, love, and
Harmony
Understanding, knowing, seeing
Time will bring it.
A bouquet of flowers in a basket.
Time will know
When to let the water flow.

And now a word from our sponsor

If anyone is keeping up with my posts, you probably think I am a lunatic with wild mood swings.  I am actually someone very hurt from a freshly ended relationship and trying to find solace in writing.  It doesn't matter if I write about something funny, something sad, something true, or fiction.  If I am writing then I am helping to rid myself of the painful infection that keeps trying to build up in my bloodstream. 

I am mad at myself for feeling like this.  I should be happy it is over after all I am the one that ended it.  For months it had deteriorated until I had to cry uncle.  Even so, it is a loss and I must allow myself to grieve and give myself permission to one minute feel riddled with bullet holes and the next laughing.  I think part of the problem is I am normally more in control of my emotions and this time they are guiding the ship over rough waters making me seasick. 

Thanks for being there.  Thanks for sharing my life with me.