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)
(Written during my bedbound years with ME/CFS)
I dream that I am teaching again, and having assigned the class independent work, I am spending time connecting with each student to see if they are grasping the material. It’s my favourite part of teaching, and I wake up wondering if I’ll ever have that feeling again. So rewarding.
It is bittersweet, growing old. Many of life’s goals have been achieved, and yet, the desire for more still exists. At least, it does for me. I’m just not sure what to do about it.
A kidney stone, coupled with an infection has set me back five days – two trying to soldier through the pain, and three pursuing medical answers. Anyway, I’m on the mend, tired already of this foray into self-pity.
Tomorrow, I keep telling myself, is a new day.
(Image my own)
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)
(This is found poem, previously posted on OneWoman’s Quest II)
Words, like crickets, leap inside my head –
chirping pests whose trajectory eludes
my dulled reflexes, scuttles about
the periphery of awareness.
Harmless in the singular,
a cacophony of multitudes
threaten any semblance
of sanity.
I strive to intuit their rhythm
define the notes in workable phrases
capture the message before
it all disappears again.
(Art my own)
Words, like crickets,
leap from my mind –
chirping pests
whose trajectory
eludes my dulled
reflexes, scuttling
around the periphery
of my awareness
Harmless, really,
in the singular,
a cacophony
in multitudes
threatening
to multiply further
and destroy any
semblance of sanity
I must intuit
their rhythm,
define the notes
in workable phrases,
capture the essence
of their meaning
and inscribe the message
before they disappear again.
(Pestilence of Words first appeared on One Woman’s Quest II, October 2016. Edited for this edition. Image my own.)
What is it that a woman of maturity quests for?
Autonomy: to feel that her decisions/wants/needs
are not overshadowed by the dictates of another,
or by a past that is forever looming.
Empowerment: to know, once and for all, that
the victim is laid to rest, so that she can embrace
her authentic self.
Inner peace: to live without guilt or the need for
permission. To be able to forgive and self and other
in order to be free. To trust, innately, her own
inner resources, releasing fear’s hold.
Sacredness: to stand firmly upon the Earth,
breathe freely, and engage with life. To make
a difference.
Celebration: to live with anticipation, surprise,
and ultimately joy.
Connection: to recognize in each living moment
that none of the above is obtained in a bubble.
I quest for true connection. The bravest quest of all.
(Reading through old posts I came across one from November, 2014 which inspired this write. Image my own.)
One Woman's Quest 