Category: Change

Stumbling Towards Dawn: Musings of Loss, Change, and Hope

Stumbling Towards Dawn: Musings of Loss, Change, and Hope

Today is the day.

The last two years have brought me to my lowest points, on my knees, fighting to breathe, finding myself. When I started writing again, it was because my soul was screaming for an outlet. It was because I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t see through the tears, I couldn’t dare to dream of a book. I was writing because I had to; I didn’t have a choice. I wrote poems nearly daily, amassing a collection of pain and grief, and very little hope. It took a village and strength from beneath the pain for me to find my voice with some hope in it.

Today is the day that has been nearly 40 years in making: “Stumbling Towards Dawn” my first poetry book is being launched….

I share these musings as a stake in the ground, that I made it this far in the journey.

I share these musings as a voice once quieted, now loudly pronounced.

I share these musings as a message to others that we can struggle together.

I share these musings so that we can heal together.

You are not alone. You are seen.

Stumbling Towards Dawn: Musing of Loss, Change, and Hope

This is a new chapter for me. Thank you for being here.

Read about the Launching of Crista Dawn and follow her on Facebook and Instagram.

Restoration in Progress

Restoration in Progress

Years ago, I wrote about “Restoration in Progress” and the sentient kept coming back to me this past week. I have missed writing my musings the last few weeks as I have addressed medical issues with major surgery.

As I recover, I try to keep my friend, Grace, in mind. I’m alone with my thoughts a lot, but unable to do much physically. This is a complicated place to be – when your mind is racing, with energy to spare, but your body is incapable of doing the work.

I know my state is temporary, and I know this is a necessary part of my healing.

Stick with me as I go through this journey, I have much more to share.

I’m on the trail, restoring.

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“Restoration in progress. Please stay on the trail.” The sign is mocking me a bit.

I drag myself to the local nature center, pay my obligatory $5 parking fee, and stroll through the various habitats with my notebook.

While the sounds of the freeway are in the distant background, and an occasional power line can be seen, this small oasis in the city has a calming effect on me. As perspective on life slowly comes back to me, I fear it won’t last for long. Out there… is death, pain, chaos, busyness, deadlines, pressure, and so much noise. The noise. It takes a full 30 minutes until I am finally able to breathe, removing myself from the insanity of life.

So I sit here, waiting to be restored. The smell of sage, the ducks chasing each other, the falling seeds on my notebook, the trees – everything here says breath, live, restore. The life of the aquatic turtles is envious, the warm sun softly baking their shells, and a quick dip in the water for play.

A couple walks past me, and she comments, “The days go by much slower now.” Having absolutely no context in which she said this, I could not even phantom a scenario that could possibly allow my days to go by more slowly.

I have written before about “moments” and I do try desperately to live my life in those precious moments. With the craziness of late, these moments seem to appear less frequently, even though I wish for them more often.

I am not much of a trail hiker, more of a trailblazer. Admittedly, I want the challenge of the unknown, live to be the first, or best, or even the only – but that is another story. It isn’t about competitiveness for me, it is about pushing myself.

But I am reminded in this moment that sometimes we have to stay on the trails in life for a while so the restoration can be in progress. Not really what my mind wants, but rather what my soul needs for this interval. Sometimes a trail can keep you from falling, damaging yourself even more, shielding you from predators, or simply getting you to the destination faster. Trails are often predictable and boring to me, but today the trail was peaceful.

“Restoration in progress. Please stay on the trail. Thank you.” (Originally written in 2010)

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Read about the Launching of Crista Dawn and follow her on Facebook and Instagram.

Grace and Resilience

Grace and Resilience

Resilience entered my life a long time ago and has been at my side since I was a child. Resilience never lets me down when things got tough, daily reminding me of my strength. And Resilience definitely has held my hand throughout the last few years, propping me up, making it possible to get through each day and even excel.

But lately, Grace has been my best friend. She has a different approach to life than Resilience, and sometimes they even fight. Grace folds her arms, goes silent, and waits. Grace always wins.

Grace comes in when the self-imposed deadline passes, and the Sunday Musing is really a Tuesday one. Grace looks at the goals – the stickie notes that litter the desk, monitor, and keyboard; she smiles at the handwritten lists, the to-do application, and endless phone notes. She provides prioritization in goal setting. Rarely is her advice on a list.

Grace enters the room when the laundry is piled on every cushion of the sectional couch so that there is no place to sit. Grace quietly wraps her arms around the dishes, the crap on the counters, and the disorganization. She doesn’t shake her head, or have a knowing glance. She doesn’t need to forgive, because there is nothing to forgive.

Grace understands when the news has to be ignored. When emails or texts go unanswered, she asks no questions. Grace has felt the weight of the world, she knows when the covers of the bed feel like the only protection.

Grace doesn’t need excuses or reasons, she finds all she needs to know in the tears. Grace doesn’t mind if there are wine or pain relievers, but she encourages sleep. Grace lays still when the eyes are heavy. Grace provides healing so Resilience can return.

May you befriend Grace.

May you introduce your friends to Grace.

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Read about the Launching of Crista Dawn and follow her on Facebook and Instagram.

My Body Belies Me…

My Body Belies Me…

Music has taken on a new role in my life journey, as I appreciate the old with a sense of understanding as familiar songs take on new meanings, and I’m introduced to new sounds. The lens of grief and change make every song breathe differently, whether it is reformed from the guise of a toxic relationship, understanding love at deeper levels, or the death of the dear one.

Erasure (Andy Bell & Vince Clarke) has always had a deep personal connection to me, but today I finally understood a line from a favorite song (one that is relatively unknown), “Piano Song.”

“My body belies me, I’m of fertile mind.”

The 1989 album Wild!, takes me back to being a teenager hanging with my older brother. The song today wrecked me, as I sang along, “What hurts me most, I’ll never see your eyes again. The harder it gets, I need to close my eyes, I can’t recollect, I’ll never see your eyes again.”

I will never see his eyes again.

The grief shook me and I felt it ripple through my soul. My body has been screaming at me for years, but I never listened carefully enough. Now my body lies to me, as it moves through the grief as if it is a normal day. My body, dear sweet thing, has been through a hellish pilgrimage, and as it settles into a new life, stress has come off of it and I am addressing her differently.

We have a dance, my body and me – when I don’t take care of her, she has a way of making me stop. For International Women’s Day last week, I shared a poem that celebrates her. But today, as I listen, I hear the grief and feel the new stresses. We will dance a bit differently over the next few weeks and months, but I will remember the strength she gives me. And in turn, I will give her grace and the space to heal.

Body

The weight of my body feels tremendous this morning
Pushing deep into the mattress under a pile of blankets
The heater just took the chill out, although the fan still spins
I let the weight pull me in and just listen

I feel the weight of my legs and feet
As they have carried me through this journey
Bruises along my thighs, unknown origins
They are not used for running anymore, but they can move

I feel the weight of my pelvis
As the pain within it fights to be heard
I remind it of the joy it should bring
The child it bore me, the freedom it should offer

I feel the weight of my torso and chest
Abdomen sore from the gut-altering lifestyle and anguish
But my breasts have been behaving lately, no complaints about them
My heart feels both elation and devastation

I feel the weight of my arms and hands
These parts have picked up every piece of pain
They have hugged everyone who has needed it
My fingers typing out the poetry from my soul

I feel the weight of my head
Skin is dry and cracked, eyes annoyed by the light
Hair is a disaster but happy with its state of being
Brain overwhelmed with every decision and process

I feel the weight of my body, grateful for her
She has been broken, been healed, with scars on every limb
She aches in pain and joy
The mental and physical healing is not done, but grateful

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Read about the Launching of Crista Dawn and follow her on Facebook and Instagram.

Being in the Know

Being in the Know

The truth will find its way to the people who want the truth, who seek it. Those who do not want the truth, will not hear it anyway. And the people that care about you, the genuine ones, they will know the truth, they will embrace you, warts and all. And they will be in the know.

And for those who aren’t in the know, let their opinions fall away. They don’t know, and therefore, they cannot judge.

We have to create no-judgment zones for those around us. You do not know what demons and pains others have had, you don’t know what happened behind closed doors, and you do not know all of the decisions and juggling that others have done. This is true in relationship crap, job situations, parenting challenges, and all aspects of life.

This is a no-judgment zone.

Know

Those in the know
Know it wasn’t a moment
It wasn’t one thing
It wasn’t the scales being tipped

Those in the know
Know it was a lifetime in coming
It was the drain
It was the beating down of a soul

Those in the know
Know that there was daily pain
It was a struggle
It was an awkward dance without lessons

Those in the know
Know how hard it was to leave
It required untold strength
It required real self-advocacy

Those in the know
Know everything was done to save it
It wasn’t for lack of trying
It wasn’t for not enough effort

Those in the know
Know that the peace is coming
It is time for change
It is time for a rewrite

Those who don’t know
Judge, assume, and fill in the blanks
Those who don’t know, don’t need to
Those who know, know

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Read about the Launching of Crista Dawn and follow her on Facebook and Instagram.

Faking It Until I Make It

Faking It Until I Make It

The internet is full of imposters, in fact, at this point, it may have more fraudulent than authentic voices. Artificial Intelligence is now in the mix, writing poetry, taking up words, devoid of context, but stringing together syntaxes that sound real. As I once again picked up my writing mantle after having let the depression and situational drama steal my voice, I found that I was less confident in my ability to cohesively share my thoughts.

So I’m stumbling along a bit, but I’m here. Ready to bring you all along in a way that can provide healing for those who need it.

Faking

The Internet is full of how long I should write
How I should write
The right ways to write my words
There are names for it
It isn’t poetry, it isn’t prose, it is in-between

I like being undefined
I like being the unusual
I like being the different
I like being the weird

Except when that means I’m alone
Because no one understands me
I don’t follow the rules in my heart
No one knows how I break them
I’m good at faking it

I’d like to be brilliant
I’d like to be heard
I’d like to be seen
I’d like to be known

Except when I just want to crawl in a hole
Because the world is too much
I don’t follow the rules in my heart
No one knows how I break them
I’m good at faking it