Snow

   The promise of snowfall has been broadcast on the radio. It has not begun yet, but a gray ceiling could tinkle with flakes any time. Yesterdays snow was no more than dust collected. Now that my Christmas tree is up I feel the spirit in the air and want some of the white stuff to catch up with the rest of the season. Soon enough it will come. Soon enough I am sure I will tire of it and wait impatiently for spring and the garden to peek back to life. I had anemones growing just last week for goodness sake! They thought it was spring already, but winter refuses to show. Last year the snow began in October with ice storms and coated the world all fall. By December, we had had snow for two months already! Thus far, we have had two snows that were both gone by the lunch hour. I think on G's posts on global warming, but just think this is another year that is living the way that it wants to. So while I would not mind a little snow to kick through, 18 inches might be a little more test to my back muscles than I am ready for. Sorry G. It will come in its own time and I can anticipate until then.

Snow fall

   It is snowing. I heard tell this morning that it was supposed to snow all week. As Christmas is approaching rapidly, this makes me happy.  I love the beginning of winter with its new white blanket that softens the world. It hides all the ugly bits as they lie dormant waiting for Spring and their transformation. I say ugly, but that doesn't feel quite right. The world has less obvious signs of life and light and it constricts our movements. We stay closer to home to hunker down in front of the fire. Cuddly blankets and beds call louder to our sleepy souls. I don fuzzy slippers and dream of frothy eggnog. I await my children and their zeal, so that we can trim our tree this aft. It is a lovely tree, that I know will shine forth love, excitement and promise before the day is through. Crisp smiles and laughter helped to find it yesterday. Perhaps that will be a memory that will follow the girls as they grow. My memory trees held hot chocolate and sleigh rides. This is a new tree though and new memories to be built.

   So let it snow and cover up the world and all that is in it. I am ready for my dormancy. I am ready for thoughts of transformation. I am ready for beauty and love. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...

tonight

   It sometimes makes me wonder why certain people come into our lives. As of late I seem to have found new audiences for my story. As I recount tales from my life they become large as life and I am back there again. A friend this evening asked if I had always been this way or if I felt it was a byproduct of my grief. An interesting question. I try not to cry or get too emotional, but I am a leaky soul. I believe I have always been, but am a little squishier now. Are my tears a byproduct of my grief? I had it suggested by grief counsellors that I probably suffered from post traumatic stress disorder after Brad died. The moments from the last few days of his life are ingrained on my brain. I can feel the raw emotions when I go back and examine those days, those hours. They are more real than the person sitting in front of me. I am more there in the past than with the person listening to my tale. It is not a tale. It is a reality that I survived. It was shocking and surreal and incredibly painful. What I am slowly trying to learn and feel is that that moment is past. I do not exist in that moment any more. I can only exist in today. Now is the only thing I have control over. Remembering crisis points sends me back and reeling though. It was really sad. It was scary. It was surreal. I did not ask or want that to be a part of my reality, but it happened anyway. I do not need to have my chest constrict or heart race, as I fall to the floor hearing of a new grief. I do not need to stand paralyzed watching as my husband screams in blinding pain as his brain is attacked by his cancerous body. Unable to do anything. That was then. It has become a living nightmare that I can replay at will. I don't need to. It happens on occasion, but I try not to. It hurts. Grief counsellors have suggested that at 2 years into my grief, it is still fresh. I wonder when the freshness of it will wear off. I am not hit with the raw edges as often any more and am looking towards today and a little of tomorrow.
   I have run out of words.
   Tonight they have all been said

Sameness

Sunshine stares over a street scene of sameness

Am I sameness today?

Wine mulled and sips supped

beside decadence in decades past.

Our stories streamed past ancient dreams that grew

and faltered and changed

of own accord.

reasons pondered by some, but not always many

Am I sameness today?

Heroes, figures and forgers

they live past, present and future

We pull them into own circus

Dance with and laugh at

Gasp in horror, not to look away.

this is us, this was me, this was you

was meant to be

destiny

good, bad, ugly

Trail my hand in God's dream

choice and fate meet

turn carelessly

free

A wise woman told me

let go of yesterday and tomorrow

they are beyond our control

Today is the only thing we truly hold

and Today I found a friend.

a metta meditation

May I be free from harm.
May I be healed.
May I be loved.
May I be at peace.
 
May you be free from harm.
May you be healed.
May you be loved.
May you be at peace.
 
May the world be free from harm.
May the world be healed.
May the world be loved.
May the world find peace.
 
 
May you all find love,truth and healing in your heart, so that you can go forth and shine that light into the world. Namaste