When we are willing to share our woundedness it allows us to connect on a deep level with others.
This is a poem I wrote about that.
The pain is near
Close inside my soul
It holds my essence
The past that is me
It holds the secrets
Things not always shared
But given freely
To ease distress
The pain others fear to share
Pouring out over the torn
And bleeding hearts
Joining our souls
Connecting our depths
We are together
Melded by God
The place of suffering
The place chosen to connect
Suffering and pain
With no restraint
Feeling the aloneness
Ever after to pour over
The oil of compassion
We were without power again today. A squirrel committed suicide at the transformer. So sorry. I actually like squirrels although a lot of my neighbors don’t. I’m not sure why as they seem to cause few problems. We actually put food our for them as the trees here didn’t make their quota of nuts and the squirrels have been hungry and getting ready for fall. My dogs love to chase the squirrels but very, very rarely catch one. (thank goodness!)
This is the first day here that has felt like fall and although the days are shorter I am enjoying the cooler air. The air feels good. We live on the salt marsh and have an 8 ft tide. For most people who move here the smell of the marsh is not pleasant. Having been here most summers of my life and lived here for 42 years it is a joy to me. I love the smell. It reminds me of summers going to the beach. Good memories.
It is amazing how smells can trigger memories. My mother always wore the same perfume and when someone is wearing it I immediately think of her. Those kinds of things bring good memories.
There are also things that trigger bad memories. Recently a smell triggered memories of time spent in the hospital with severe bowel problems. Not a good memory. I immediately pushed that memory away.
I have found that it is possible to wallow in a good memory and accept all the pleasure that it brings. I have also worked on letting the bad memories slide in and out of my mind by mentally pushing them away. Usually it works. I focus on something else and drag my mind away.
Memories are part of our lives. It is part of what made us who we are but we don’t have to live in the bad ones. Living in the past can become addictive. We would be wise to enjoy the good memories and then move back into the NOW. Dwelling in the past can stop us from experiencing the present. NOW is what is important.
Everyone matters. It is so easy to dismiss people as not being worth our notice. I have frequently visited nursing homes with many patients in wheelchairs sitting the hall. I have noticed that most people pass them by without comment. It is as if they don’t exist. How terrible to be relegated to such a position. I have always made it a point to speak to each resident and smile. Most of them are so happy to have someone reach out to them and I receive lots of smiles in return.
I live in the South of the United States and there is a big difference just walking the streets of the town I live in. People routinely smile and speak as they pass on the street. The city has a large Art college with lots of students and it is easy to tell that some of them are startled when passers by speak. You can see them wondering whether to respond. I am not sure that this is routine in all southern cities but it is in many that I have visited. It is nice to acknowledge people and have them respond.
However many people do not speak to those who are obviously homeless. They choose to not acknowledge their existence. So even in a place where people routinely greet another person they still attach a stigma to those less fortunate. I do continue to speak to them and usually get a smile in return.
I can’t imagine what it must be like to feel as if you don’t exist. I know that has happened to many who suffer from mental illness. They certainly know what it feels like to be deliberately ignored.
I hope that we can learn to see each person as a human being deserving of being recognized. I wonder how thing would change if this were so.
Understanding. A word that means so much. I think that each of us longs to be understood. I know that I do. Each of us is an individual. We have our own past, our own values, and our own lives. Many of us have issues with mental health. This makes it harder for people to “get it.”
The other problem is that most people (including us) don’t really listen. If we take the time to stop and really hear what someone is saying it makes all the difference. No one can be understood if they are not listened to.
Maybe that is why we do feel that we are heard on Word Press. If someone is reading what we have written no one is interrupting. When we are talking with someone that may not happen. Too often we spend time deciding what we will say next instead of hearing the other person. Maybe if we really listened then it will encourage someone else to really listen.
Talking is over rated. Listening is the key.
Do you ever feel as if life is out to get you? I have felt that way lately. Superstitions abound about this….things come in threes, if you have too much good then bad is coming. Sometimes it is a self fulfilling prophecy. When a lot of things keep happening you start to feel vulnerable. You are having lots of bad luck. It starts reminding me of an old country/western song that says “if it weren’t for bad luck I’d have no luck at all.”
Ever since this knee surgery process was begun it has felt that way. The big good is that the surgery was successful. It seems that everything else surrounding it has been complicated and stress causing. I feel like “chicken little” running around saying “the sky is falling.”
When Hurricane Michael hit the Florida coast I felt such empathy for the people devastated by it. We only got the outside fringes as it went up the middle of Georgia and other states. We had some wind and rain. Very few areas lost power. Unfortunately, two houses away from us there is a vacant lot and some very dangerous trees. One fell across the power lines and we were without power for about 18 hours. This is nothing compared to what others are going through but it just seemed that the bad luck genie was striking again.
I have been pretty free of IBS issues for a while but of course this kicked the whole thing up again. Some medicine has helped but made me tired and cranky. I just want this to stop. I seem to be complaining when lots of people are so worse off. It makes me feel guilty.
Sometimes it is so hard to control our emotional reaction to events. They hit and our minds and bodies respond before we can slam on the brakes. I can see more work on my part tending my coping skills.
I hate a messy, dirty house but have not felt like cleaning and the mess just makes me feel worse. I need organization and I have to work hard on that right away. I can’t even call someone to give my house a one-time clean as I need to pick up first. It is really bad when what you need to do is clean before someone else can clean.
I know this will all resolve and I am ready for that. I will put on my big girl pants and get to work and I know things will be better. I know that bad luck is not the only kind I have. God will make sure of that.
Tonight I offer this….my connection with the sea.
What are the thughts of the sea
As it rolls In and out
Over and over
The wind gently blows my hair
Across my face
The sand is pulled out
With each wave
And tossed carelessly back
The light is gentle
Translucent, glass like
And hovers over the sea
Night is falling
The gloaming fades
And grey shrouds the sea
The dull, colorless sea
Reflects the drab thoughts
Encompassing my mind
I am reminded
That with the dawn
The sea will change
Becoming many hued
With laughing waves
Foam topped and spritely
So also my life
Can be painted
With new color