no word of mine

identity

2010-03-26T16:48:00.000-07:00

Finding yourself when marriage redefines you

Another blogger asked a question about what to do in her current marital situation. She is being verbally abused, treated unfairly, and feels as though her husband purposely sets out to cause her sadness.

Do we give so much of ourselves to support the "we" that we lose sight of who the "me" is entirely? Can we change so much to fit our idea of what marriage is supposed to be that we compromise our happiness? This was my response to her.

My answer would be to remember who you were before marriage. How much have you changed? What courage and bravery have you given up? What did you lose or let him gain that allows him to have the upper hand? Marriage is a partnership, a bettering of our life. Otherwise, what is the point?
Truth is, I DO understand this feeling. But honestly, looking back I realized that you determine how people will treat you.
It will not be an easy fight, but a fight it will be if you are wanting to stay in this marriage.
As deeply as we are tied to our spouses, it is nearly impossible to not let their actions or words affect us. But remember that before marriage YOU were responsible for your own happiness, and you still are!! Do not give him the control to manipulate your emotions. Sometimes loving is the hardest thing in the world to do, because when someone knows us so well, it is easy for them to hit us where it hurts.
But hang in until you are sure what you want to do.
It started out as a lifelong commitment for both of you. So perhaps that would lead to the idea that one person cannot be blamed for its failure. Dig up your past, remember the things you loved about yourself...your passions, your hobbies, your humor. Chances are, those things are what your husband fell in love with too! So while he is definitely in the wrong for treating the person he shares his life with worse than he would treat a stranger, make sure you have the courage to stand up for your own happiness. I wish you the best.

2009-09-07T20:52:00.000-07:00

Most times it is the whirling thoughts in my head that inspire me to sit down and tap the keys... but on other occasions, as it should of course be, my myriad of interests inspire words in and of themselves.

This is a poignant look into many levels and layers of my family. So much can be gleaned from this one photograph. It shows sadness, separation, bonds of a grandmother and grandson, resentment, pride in where we came from, indepences, facades, loss, moving toward the light, and the irrepressable optimism of the very young...

lost with you

2009-08-22T23:28:00.001-07:00

Since I saw you on that day,
On the saddest day,
I have felt a fierce protectiveness
For when a heart was too big for a body,
It left us, and left us lost.
When strength turned into a thin whisper,
And a vibrance to a mist...
When life showed once again, its fickle and cruel side.
And then it was over, and they cried, and I cried.

I still hurt for them,
And want to put them somewhere safe,
That would gaurd them from what lies ahead,
Too many huricanes have blown through their house,
And I don't believe it can weather another, or even a heavy rain.
So I tried to tell you that I loved you, as a lost child...
And that I saw beyond the strong facade,
So when I fight for you, it is for this.

I have driven myself to many insanities,
For either I care too much, or care not at all...
I have piled on the anguish and regret,
And filled my heart with doubt and shadows,
I have given myself no rest, though repentant and changed.
But for you, for all of you, I would stand up and be better,
And I tried, but you couldn't see it... or didn't want to.
It only reminded you that I was there, and had cried with you.

Take this burden off of me!
Have I not bled my veins dry for a second of your happiness?
Have I not cried away the joy from my body?
Yet you mock my love, my sadness for you.
Instead of accepting my protection, you exploited it.
If you saw into my heart you would know that I only longed to give you shelter,
That I carried around this weight for you,
That I never forgot, that though angry now, I am still sad for you...
Yet you have made a fool of me.

So that you will hear me...

2009-08-21T18:15:00.000-07:00

So that you will hear me,
Sometimes my words morph into shapes you can recognize.
They were once trapped in my dark room, seeped into the walls...
They knew my sadness, truly, knew it more than you.

I watch my words from far away,
And they look more like your words than mine.
I believe you are to blame...
Because you fill everything, everything.

Now you are there occupying my spaces.
So my words flee from my dark haven...
And surface in ways you can see them
But no longer can I feel them.

Now I want you to hear them,
I want them to tell you what I long for you to hear.
And you have made them lighter...
Out of the quiet cavern of my thoughts, my words are now yours too.

So that you will hear me...

2009-08-21T17:52:00.000-07:00

So that you will hear me
sometimes my words grow into shapes you will recognize
and I watch from a long way back...
and they look more like your words, than mine.

Before you, they were kept in my dark room,
and they crawled in and out of my head,
and up and down the walls...
they knew my sadness, truly.

Now you.
This is all because you fill everything.
And now they are pushed out of my lair...
And surface in ways you can see them too.

Now I want them to say to you, what I want to say.
I want you to hear them as I hear them.
Your love makes them lighter...
and I weave them into an endless chain that we will share.

Hope

2009-08-11T22:38:00.000-07:00

I know this sign is meant to say OPEN but when I saw it, I wanted to read it as HOPE... It didn't enter my mind until later that I had chosen to read it as Hope. Funny how a thought can enter your heart, if only briefly, and give you the courage to continue, and to know that your thoughts are not all dreariness and shadow...

Trees

2009-08-06T10:14:00.000-07:00

I believe an image can be as powerful as a speech or a sonnet...

ruins

2009-07-27T18:59:00.001-07:00

Your eyes are like two warring countries, for you have set your feet on a place of perpetual desolation.

Your spirit makes a diligent search for anything remaining in the ashes of your sanctuary.
And because you yourself welcomed in the flames, your tears will fall into the dust, unnoticed.
Your hands will reach out all night for what you are searching for, but you will never find it… Your own thoughts have become the daggers that shed your blood.
So laugh not, nor cry.
These are for the living.
And you have sold the life once in you… so you are nothing.
You wish for someone to glance down and pull you up…up from the ashes and soot.
The thoughts that plague your mind run ever faster, twisting into thorns and brambles.
I reach through, and the thorns pierce my skin and my blood drips slowly, sadly, into the ash.
I cry and plead in desperation to find a way through…
To the hope that is beyond this desolation.
Who can speak to me but my own soul, my own heart and mind?
It is from there I must flee.

Lost again

2009-07-27T18:11:00.001-07:00

I feel her absence, as though a shadow had stopped dancing on the wall. It is a soft pain, not sharp or shocking, but rather poignant and peaceful. Why so often the best leave us to struggle through on our own, is an irony to me. Those that hold us together, suddenly gone. Their strength no longer there for us to fall back onto, and we fumble to stand and walk alone. Their whispers in our ears, encouraging yet remote. We are left behind for a reason…time. We need each hour to prove our worth. Certain souls come into our life to grow amongst us and we are allowed moments of peace and rest under the shade of their branches. Now we may be tempted to pray for darkness and the moon and stars, since we feel our shade from the burningly bright sun is gone, but that is not how these souls would want it to be. We don't need to sorrow, for they will emerge all around us, from all the things that our soul longs for, because they too, were part of our soul…So let us be courageous, when that painfully bright mourning sun rises, to emerge into the light and fight to walk on our own.

Force of feeling

2009-07-24T15:43:00.001-07:00

I cannot be black and white... I cannot be the perfect temperance of highlights and shadows that I admire in a worthy photograph. I cannot be still... It is not a lack of peace, but rather a constant change of temperature. There is hot, there is cold, but like color there are also a myriad of degrees in between. There is searing, there is frigid, and sometimes I like to be both simultaneously. Who is to tell me I can't? I dare you. I dare you to try to fix me. I want to be comfortably warm while my fingers and toes are numb. I want to be the most confident shade of GRAY. I want you to wonder how you will make me feel. I want to wonder it too... Don't buy me flowers and expect me to smile. I may cry... I may cry because they are too perfectly beautiful... I may be angry because you KNEW I would want them. Don't try to make sense of me. I am quite determined that it is not possible. Let me make my own shades from black and white, from hot and cold... One word should never be enough to describe someone.

No word of mine

2009-07-24T15:39:00.000-07:00

I have fallen so far, a downward turn, like an injured bird and I catch sight of your window, but cannot get in, again and again and again beating myself upon the pane that separates your goodness from my turmoil. I should not let you open the window, I should not fly in, or crawl in, or even look in.
Your light has given me breath so many times, so many times… when do you get something wonderful that you deserve? I am not it. I am frayed and damaged, my threads coming lose one by one to drag behind me in the mud and in the rain. Sometimes I come unraveled so much faster that I don’t have time to see where the threads have blown away to… maybe to another broken bird, maybe into the sea where the waves will drown them and hide them from you.
I don’t want you to see my frayed edges, o you of perfect form and texture. O you who feels like silk to my hungry fingers as I search for some place I can lay my head on you. But you are too graceful, and the wind only caresses your skin, gently. There are no rain drops, or pelts of hail, or gusts, or shakes of thunder that you fear… no no, no. It is only I who am afraid…. As I walk alone without you, I look over my shoulder, looking for your smile.