Growing Versions

It cannot be seen by the naked eye.  So, we have to trust the experts--the people who have devoted their careers to seeing these things for us.  This weather that approaches, the coming storm, the looming march of an invisible force bears down on us, they forecast for us. There is something very scary about trusting that much.  We do it sometimes--when we fall in love, or meet our children.  Letting go of so much of what we know of ourselves takes a lot of..something. As our lives change in ways we never quite imagined, even after watching all those movies about pandemics, we lean into our shelters.  Shelters that are not always safe for some of us and wait for the storm to pass.

I had a breakthrough. The breakthrough had me. I broke. I let myself shatter. I tried everything to protect myself from breakage. I created lots of padding around myself. I distanced myself from sharp objects. But all the while, the thawing continued. The breaking point came closer. The hairline fracture ruptured and two, three, four pieces fell away. After the break, the heat of the sun. The sun I could not feel before. The warmth of my friends, my family reaching across the shards to gather me in their arms.

That gap, the one between you and I, between here and there, between now and then can seem so large. Centimetres can still cause missteps, broken ankles, misunderstandings. Centimetres add up to metres, to kilometres. Distances comes in so many lengths.

Lately I've been conscious of all the fighting vocabulary I and many others use. Fighting a cold, battling cancer, uphill battles...I reject the phrase "fighting cancer". It is just not a fair statement. It implies that there are winners and losers and blames the loser.  I am also all too aware of all the conflicts I have within myself and between me and others.  I accept that conflict is natural. It is a part of life.  What is not natural is fighting the wrong thing. Over the past few years, I've been living with more conflict than usual and it is only now that I understand I am not always fighting against the right thing.  In fact, some fights just weakened me as I "pounded" away at what I thought my problem was.  Fighting is not fun, but it is not necessarily useless.  Am I fighting a shadow? Am I hitting on doubt and thin air? Who is my enemy or is there even one? Only pick a fair fight, and that includes any fights you have with yourself. ...

They could slip past me at this point.  At this stage, they might slink up the stairs to their rooms, build forts and worlds until it is time to leave. They could have and have already begun to hide between the covers of a book or get sucked into an extracurricular activity that doesn't include me or get surrounded by a web of friends. If I weren't so tired, worn out from my labours of the first few stages, I might not notice.  Nodding off on the couch, bingeing on another world created for me might keep me comforted just enough. So, I deciding to slip into a lower gear.  Clear more space on the calendar, empty the toy box and replace the toys with empty space and spare parts that might just tug them back for a while longer. Lower gear is not as tiring.  I still feel like they are picking up speed in another direction and don't want me to follow, but there are just enough times still when I can still walk along side them, and watch the car slide off the tr...

I was in need of redemption. I felt on the wrong side of things. Weepy and weak, unbalanced. I was just about to bury the feelings with take-out coffee when I decided that I would go to the library instead. It was the first of the day, usually caffeine is all the spiritual balm I require. But today was different, it was just one more day, on top of so many days .... I browsed. I picked out books about crime in Northern countries. It was not church, but it felt closer than I have felt in a long time.