the space between words

Sometimes life gets on top of me. I am either so busy living my life or coping with something that consumes all my energy that it is almost like I become deaf.

I vaguely notice that something in my body is not working, my knee hurts, or my head pounds. I tripped over a pile of things when I was sweeping a while back and jumped back up. 10 hours later, I started wondering, "why can't I grip anything with my left hand?"

It was not until a while later that I remembered, "oh yeah...I fell on it."

This deafness to my self causes me to block out pain and work too hard.

The voice of me inside gets so muffled I start doing things based on old information...ways I used to think, old beliefs and discarded notions.

Recently, I've had a chance to unwrap the cotton wool from around the crevices. The wool that was insulating me from me.
The padding that was allowing me to fall flat on my face and not notice until several hours later.

In the process of unwrapping the excess layers, I extracted a lot of words that had not been said because they were so strapped down by threads.

I released them. Not quickly mind you, they were pretty tangled. I released them one by one...with space between them. They said, "hey you, we have been trying to tell
you something. Are
you
listening
now?"

Comments

I entered August without you.

I won't visit you this month. You won't call. I will raid your garden and you won't get any of the vegetables. I will make plans without telling you about them. We'll go to the store and not buy you one single thing. Whole books will be read and I will not tell you which ones. I will watch movies and not inform you. The nasturiums will ripen. Last month was different. I changed my schedule and took time off work to be with you. I dropped all kinds of plans for us to be together. You sent me messages, I received them. I picked up food that I thought you would like at the store and sent you pictures of every beautiful thing I saw. I sang with you. We watched the Great Canadian Baking Show. You chose the recipe for the garlic scape pesto and gave me instructions for making the gooseberry jam. I am in August without you. You are in July.

Keep telling yourself that.

We talk to ourselves everyday, all day (and night) for the whole of our lives. We started talking to ourselves before we knew we were a self, we forget what we said because we forget everything from before...when we were too young and busy developing our brain to remember those early years. There is still lingering residue of long forgotten conversations I have had with myself as a toddler sitting around in the crevices...sloughing off occasionally into words I tell myself still. We talk non-stop, and not just with dialogue. Our goosebumps communicate to us, our tingly feelings, our neurons, our peripheal vision. They are all submitting data into our self and expecting us to react, respond or all to often, expecting what they are sending us will be ignored. After all that talking, you'd think we'd know what we think about most things, but occasionally we are stumped. Unless we stop what we are doing and really concentrate sometimes that voice(s) ...

Shake your Bummy

In recent weeks, two things have come to my attention, this article by Mary Beth Williams, T he real key to good health and the viral hit created by Dr. Mike Evans, 23 and 1/2 hours: What is the single best thing we can do for our health? Both coincided with when I was turning my attention to new years resolutions and reflecting on the year that was. Thanks to both, a reckoning came to be. Mary Beth Williams' candid advice was to get your heart stronger because you never know when you are going to need it. She herself has been receiving treatment for lung cancer. Dr Mike Evans' way of putting the exact same thing? "Try to limit your sitting time to 23 1/2 hours a day". In my day job, I sit a lot. I occasionally rise to retrieve something from the photocopier or to make a coffee, but an awful lot of the time, I'm on my bum. This is in steep contrast to my night job. At the end of the work day, occasionally in the middle, I h...

Growing Versions

Search This Blog