Back to back showings and an Open House Saturday, and I’m falling into the perfectionism trap.
Then I found this note I’d written to my younger self:
Discard the concept of perfection:
choose to embrace vulnerability
and imperfection as fertile ground.
Taking comfort in my own words.
I lied.
The initial seed of disappointment has fermented,
and in the absence of confrontation, grown roots
written sorrowful chapters
conclusion: unworthiness
Why couldn’t I just have said:
I don’t understand
this makes me unhappy?
Where did I learn that prevarication protects
that I alone am responsible for emotions
that I do not matter?
Decades later
I still cannot uproot the weed.
The lie remains.
(Image my own)
Therapy is drudging up old feelings – places where I tend to get stuck. I don’t have the answers I need to move on yet, so all I can do is breathe through the moments and be mindful in the present.
People ask: “How can you be so sick; you’re a strong person?” Or I am too positive of a person – how is it possible?
What if it is because of these very things that life has chosen me for a master class – a spiritual quest – not for the weak of heart? What if it’s because I’m a good student?
(Image and art mine)
This life a road –
the way prepared
signs to guide me,
and still, I get lost.
Construction, distraction,
disobedience – throw me off –
tendency to choose tougher routes,
broken down and been sidelined
And yet, the road still beckons,
invites progression, thrills.
A rolling stone gathers no moss,
my father liked to say, and so…
I push ahead, keep motoring,
trust the obstacles – more lessons –
will polish off the rough patches,
and eventually learn to shine.
I thumb through social media, make lists, scan through photos, put the kettle on, check emails…
…evade the moment…
What am I afraid will happen if I just pause and be?
Maybe I should I try it and see…
(Image my own)
Clouds bundle
shift and fold
cotton strata
Trees huddle
confidence in
community
Emotions stack
one on another
co-mingling hues
Beneath layers
an eternal glow
sun certainty.
(First published April 2021. Image my own)
I can’t remember a time
when elegance chose me
to sit in the front seat
ride along in style
She’d be clad in white
and I’m ever too messy
can’t control myself
might tarnish the upholstery
She’d want to go shopping
rings and jewels flashing
like Pretty Woman
after the haul
I’m second-hand
typically slink in and out
grabbing what I need and going
lest anyone see me – a disgrace
No, elegance does not choose me
moose built, ratty hair
likely forgot to wash my face
Class passes me by
But I’ll tell you this –
what I lack for on the outside
this heart is solid and sturdy
and I will not pass you by.
(Image my own)
(This is found poem, previously posted on OneWoman’s Quest II)
I’ve lived the fog of distance –
life’s highway a series of hills
destination without promise
Have learned that acceptance gains perspective,
that climates change, and hope sustains,
and that in the stillness dreams renew.
Now I travel quieter paths, appreciate
space, have surrendered to a slower pace –
certain that this too will change.
(image my own)
One Woman's Quest 