Sunday, April 12, 2015

Couch Day Musings: Unfulfilled

Couch Day Musings: Unfulfilled

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Couch Day Thoughts

It's not possible to have healthy relationships with unhealthy people. Either accept them as they are or let them go. Do not seek to enlighten them. They aren't looking for your truth. That is their own journey. It serves one better to enlighten the self. If all else fails, at least you have grown.

Friday, February 22, 2013


pieces of yesterday
drift into my awareness
a familiar, yet distant
emotion overtakes me

my dreams unfulfilled
lie lifeless and alone
abandoned by the wayside
sadness envelops me

anxiety fills my chest
an uneasy quietness
touches my soul
my cheeks are dry

i cannot help but think
what i would become
were it not for
the pain ever present

what lies in wait?
will i ever be free
of these earthly bonds
to dance in the rain?

Friday, August 31, 2012

Retirement? Really?

When I was a little girl, I dreamed of being a pediatrician.  I loved school!  I remember how excited I was on the first day of kindergarten.  Mom packed my lunch with my favorite things including slices of raw turnip.  I was quite proud of myself as I strutted merrily along Duke Street on my way to kindergarten.  It was in a red brick building across the street from St. Paul's Cathedral.  Mom took me inside and walked me to the classroom where we met my kindergarten teacher.  I looked around the room and spotted Helen Anne.  I said a quick goodbye to Mom and rushed over to sit beside my friend who was waving excitedly.  She showed me where to put my lunch box.  I was happy.  We sat there chatting about big girl stuff and whispering about the little boy who refused to let go of his mother.  I couldn't quite grasp why he was crying so hard.  Who doesn't love their first day of kindergarten?

Venturing off into a new world can be scary.  One can be excited about all the possibilities or afraid of the unknown.  I hate to say it, but I feel like that little boy clinging to his mother and crying, "Please don't make me go."  I don't want to go; that is, I don't want to go home.  I want to put my big girl pants on and go back to work, but that isn't going to happen anytime soon.  It's time to put all those dreams back on the shelf.  I've finally come to a new point in the road and I dragged myself kicking and screaming the whole way.  After all, I firmly believed in my right to work just like everyone else.  However, I had great difficulty seeking accommodation with my employer.  They did everything they could to push me out the door and they succeeded.  There is so much more to this story and I intend to tell it, but for today I just need to let this sink in.  I'm finally officially retiring. Where do I go from here?  I've lived a life of purpose carefully planning every step of the way.  I never planned on getting sick.  Who does?  Lesson learned.  Nobody is invincible.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Pain & Isolation

I wrote a lot when I was young.  It was an outlet for me - a way of dealing with life and the world.  I don't remember exactly how old I was when I wrote the following poem, but I do know it was in my teenage years.  I didn't share my writing back then.  My innermost thoughts and emotions were very difficult for me to share.  I simply didn't do it.  It may have had something to do with how I grew up or it may have been simple teenage angst.  If my memory serves me well, it had a lot to do with feeling helpless.  My childhood was tumultuous and traumatic.  It was a time when I was victimized living in constant fear.  My thoughts were focused on finishing high school and, subsequently, moving far from that place I called home.  At that time, I thought life was going to be easy once I had escaped the dysfunction and the violence.  Little did I know that it would take so much hard work, reflection and many mistakes to grow past that experience.  Despite all I've learned, I'm a student of life striving to be a better person and to live the best life that I can.  It's a learning process.  At any given moment in time, there is something new to learn, to devour, to soak up.  At my best times, I'm at peace with myself and the world around me.  I enjoy my time alone.  Joy caresses me in those quiet moments of reflection.  There is something wonderfully empowering in being alone and feeling secure and connected at the same time.  I wouldn't be human, however, were I to deny my darker moments.  This illness has put a damper on my social life.  It has placed an invisible rift between myself and the rest of the world.  I would love to say that I've conquered this beast and that I have complete control over my life.  However, there are moments when it simply isn't true.  Sometimes the sadness creeps in and I'm painfully aware of it.  In this life, we all experience the gamut of human emotion.  Nobody is perfect.  At times, I grieve for the body that used to take me wherever I chose to go and for the spirit that never said 'quit'.  Today, many moments are filled with loneliness.  I tell myself it's okay to feel this way.  I know this, too, shall pass. 

drifting overhead
every now and then
shed a tear

~ circa 1982

Sunday, April 11, 2010

Take Me There

Take me to a place
Down by the water, fall
Lay down my hat
And shoes
And wet my feet

Take a piece of me
And play the game
Of choosing
For your ill-fitting
Worn out puzzle

Take me there to see
With heart, not eyes
The thing you left behind
By careless comfort

Take the hand of mine
With unintended purpose
The darkened path
And set me free

~ July 4, 2006

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Old Family Pictures

Monday, March 22, 2010

I found a package in the mail today. It’s brought me an incredible wealth of mixed emotions, but I cannot be anything but grateful. Dot mailed them to me. She said she would. She is amazing.

I see myself in them – I am in them. It was so long ago. I seem so far away. I see something blossoming amongst the pictures & I wonder where it went. All those dreams, the family . . .

I feel inspired. It brings me closer to “who” I think I am. The circle has broken. The connection is missing. I can feel the love, almost taste it . . . almost . . .

A void so vast floats there. It isn’t ugly. It’s just floating. I can see it, but I can’t touch it. It’s beautiful, but I have to find some way to breathe it in and really feel it. I think it’s impossible. The only way to really feel “it” is to share it. Nobody else wants to share. I can see them running away. They’re scared. I don’t really know why, but I can guess.

I will treasure these moments. I will drink them up and let them rush to every ounce of my body, my soul. I will heal. I need to find more. My soul needs a little light…