As the cocoon began to slit open…the emerging butterfly began her fight to push out of her darkness and into the beautiful sunshine of a life full of wonder and adventure and flight …

I have read that if there is help in opening the cocoon, in any way, the butterfly will die. It is difficult to watch those we care about struggling. It’s especially hard when we believe that we could help in some way. Learning to just stand aside and offer advice only when it’s sought rather than just jumping in and trying to fix things is quite an adjustment. What is referred to as enabling always felt like helping. I have come to learn that in actuality it is extremely harmful. There is a crippling effect on the person rather than a freeing effect.

Boundaries that allow others to sort through their own problems and challenges must be put into place. To learn to ask if that person would like to hear what we see that could help them is a step in the right direction. Most humans are wired to want to help; however, there are those of us who cannot seem to understand that some people quite simply do not want our help. Like an obstinate young child determined to do things on their own they need to fall in order to learn to upright themselves and move forward. This is a healthy thing for people to do to find their own way❤️

I am the classic enabler. Intuitively disposed to read people’s hearts and feel their hurts and needs almost personally. Feeling that I know what they need but putting out that boundary that says to just zip it closed and wait. That I just may not know what’s best for another and it’s ok. No longer do I feel like I’ve let someone down because I couldn’t help in some way. To let others be and live their own life without interference is a good thing, Like that butterfly they need to fight out of their darkness and goo to spread those beautiful wings and take flight ….,

This butterfly has finally burst out of the dark and taken flight with wings unfurled …to where I’m not completely sure..and that’s ok too🦋🦋but it is full of wonder, adventure and flight..this freedom to unabashedly soar….

I am light

I am warmth

I am sun

I am calm waters

Sitting by the river….

Sunlight on the water like golden glitter

The calmness of the water mirrors my broken heart—

No longer turbulent just quietly broken

No longer searching just sad

Not engaging – just observing

Sitting with it and observing

Have I given too much away – maybe

Have I loved far too deeply – possibly

Where do I fit and belong – no answers

Should giving from the core of my soul be quelled – remains unanswered

Not engaging – just observing

To finally have loved with my heart’s wild abandon with everything believing all the words and actions that were given and then to have it casually handed back to me with just “No thank you, I’m sorry but no, thank you “

Confused ..crushed ….broken

Do not engage just observe

Heart questions… no answers..no closure

I am lost on this day but somehow content

Not engaging – just observing

Life was not meant to be observed but to be fully engaged

Perhaps in a shattered state ..a time out..observing and letting go

Watching the sadness and brokenness float away down the river

Right now in this moment….

I am light

I am warmth

I am sun

I am calm waters

The birds are engaged in their boisterous melodic songs

Warm wind is whipping my hair

Mallards are squawking

The brokenness and pain feels somehow absorbed out here on the dock into the flow of the river

Perhaps it is in these warm winds promising the coming of the summer sun that the letting go is beginning

Letting go to live once again….

Like the endless flow of the river

Decades of heart pain…flowing away

I am light

I am warmth

I am sun

I am calm waters

It is yours God…it always has been

High tide today came in with a heavy rain and very high winds. Watching the river rise and the neighbors dock be submerged I felt the familiar knot in my stomach and catch in my breathing. How is it I can love the water as I do and yet feel a menacing dread when I see it rising or becoming even somewhat turbulent?

I grew up in a small town in Arkansas, the mid south. The north end of town where I lived flooded a few blocks from my house when heavy rains caused 8-Mile Creek to overflow. When those waters rose it was not uncommon to see someone in a flat bottom boat maneuvering through the waters. Stark fear would grip me at those moments. While in high school one of those heavy spring rains brought flood waters around the school. Cars began to float out of the parking lot. Word was received that there was also a tornado headed in our direction. The National Guard was brought in to rescue all the students and faculty from the flooding buildings. Wet, cold, tired and scared I arrived home that afternoon and within a few days was hospitalized from dehydration and a possible bug I’d picked up in the flood waters. Truthfully it was quite possible it was from the traumatic impact that flood had on me.

Fast forward several years later and living in New Orleans, I faced that city’s rainy Springs with horrendous flooding. I waded chest deep water back to my apartment building one year. Months later I realized how dangerous that was with snakes and the ever present alligators. We lived on the edge of a wooded area and very wet swamp land. Overnight hospital stay again for the same reasons. When my first 2 children were small we watched water rise up to the top of our porch but thankfully not come into the house. Had I lived there during Katrina I’m not sure how I would have handled that terror. A truly resilient people live there.

Water nightmares have plagued me as long as I can remember. Thank heavens I didn’t know about tsunamis as a child. Not surprisingly cruises have never appealed to me. When living in Florida, I worked for a company and as part of my job one year had to be on a cruise to the Bahamas in a PR capacity. I ate Dramamine like M n Ms for the entire cruise. There was never a moment when I allowed myself to see anywhere but right in front of me. I imagined land behind me at all times. Maybe I slept an hour each night. A couple of comatose days followed that work trip but without hospitalization at least 🙄.

With all that said still my perfect day is out on a lake on a pontoon or sunup to sundown on a beach. There’s nothing quite as soothing as the sun on my face by the water….but quiet, calm waters, preferably at low tide with hospitalization not required. 😊🌊

Sitting in my art studio, with windows on 3 sides, I’m listening to the wind whistle and howl around and from across the river. There’s a 180 view of the water on this side of the house which allows a calmness to completely immerse in creative solitude. I love every single thing is this cozy room. The scent of oil paints and mediums, paint brushes, blank canvases and charcoals intermixed with floral supplies and scrapbooks. My paintings are hanging or leaning against the walls with sketches I’ve done. Scattered mementoes of days past..some wonderful to recall and some heartbreaking,…but all a very real part of my life. These nights I can pull back and just observe but not be caught up or pulled down by any of them..just aware….sitting with them…quietly being…

An inviting daybed resides in a corner with lots of pillows and a deep down comforter for the occasional guest or most often a lazy afternoon of snuggling in with a good book and a cup of tea. Or a late night glass of wine and being quiet, like tonight, just listening and being. This “art” of being alone with myself enjoying the smell of patchouli and sandalwood incense filtering across the room mixing with the oils is a new experience for me.

For the first time in my life I am completely alone. There was always a relationship or children still at home to fill any voids. One thing I have truly discovered in these alone months is that there was always a void that never seemed to be filled. That void was me. I never had a time to find or be who I was or am. It took deaths, cancer, a divorce followed by a pandemic to be finally quiet and still long enough to lean in and breathe for the first time in all my life. Quite unsettling I can tell you for absolute certain. Many nights crying myself to sleep wondering why I’m here and what’s the point….maybe that is the point..there isn’t one. Just perhaps being…quietly being…

Time to discover and create who I want to be…..and gently love what emerges from this space in which I find myself ….this beautiful art studio cocoon I have created ❤️❤️❤️that is housing this dark gooey cocoon I’m beginning to finally come out of with wings unfolding🦋🦋🦋…quietly and colorfully being….ready to fly! 😊

Just read a quote in a book…”you are not broken, you are becoming “…interesting thought with my current mindset.

Becoming what? What, if there actually is one, is the point?? Why am I here? I presently see no logic in any of it or anything else for that matter !

5 years ago my soul shattered…..but even before that horrid night…I never felt that I truly belonged anywhere. It was with the death of my son that the search to belong and find myself for the first time began in earnest. In that moment of loss and excruciating pain….the desperate need to belong somewhere, anywhere but where I was became incessant. To be accepted for who I am finally…but to first know myself who that is…

Perhaps the need to belong is really the need to be heard and seen for who we truly are….who we were born to be..that gypsy bohemian artist soul that was squelched as a child because it just wasn’t tidy and proper and like everyone else. That persona is not in keeping with southern acceptance. Messiness just does not work well in that environment. And it can be a messy lot.

Somewhere back in the throes of childhood there must have been a moment in time when I felt connected and worthwhile. That I actually mattered to someone just the way I was. There must have been a time …..

Sifting through years of not so benevolent feelings toward myself it has come to my attention that my inner voice is horribly critical. Critical toward myself but oddly not toward anyone else. Absolute perfection is expected from me at all times. At what point did that inner voice begin to berate and condemn? When subconsciously I knew that gypsy soul would not be tolerated the fight to stuff that essence of my being into a recess so deep that she could not be found began……and continued for so long I lost her along the way. Forgot the dreamer of that soft creative soul. Forgot the outrageous abandoned laughter of that childlike heart. Until now …until now…

But surfacing she is now….and with a roaring vengeance!!! …and not everyone is or will be happy about it……

Here’s to us misfit square pegs in round holes who see the world and it’s colors a bit differently but oh so vividly that we want everyone to see what we see!!

So it IS what I’ve read in reality IS true…grief doesn’t change you it reveals you!!! Hmmmm and I believe I’m finally ok with this ☺️❤️

There you were big as life….hugging me so tightly and not letting go I couldn’t breathe! Then I woke up…and just as quickly could not breathe again! You were still gone……

I have read that it is really them visiting us in our dreams. Whether true or me just needing so desperately to see and feel him that it manifests him in my dream world. Whatever it is the feeling of his arms and tightness of his hug was tangible and real at that moment. I can still feel the warmth of his breath on my neck while he was squeezing me. Harsh reality then leaves such a deep aching emptiness.

There is an emptiness that words can’t adequately define. It’s as if there is no bone structure to support my frame. The skin that is left weighs 500 lbs and is pulling me to the ground. Just bowed over in anguishing grief.

I know I’m supposed to move on…let him go…count my blessings…remember the good times… be thankful I had him the 37 years he was here…but you know only a mother who has buried her child has the right to say those things to me!! Anyone else, well meaning as you are trying to be, you quite frankly cannot begin to understand….. and I pray you never do…this loss is one you simply cannot grasp.

So still I want every single night to retreat into that comforting dreamworld where he still exists and talks to me and hugs me with that sweet hug of my child💔

There is a sadness that defies all reasoning or logic. It’s as if your soul has ceased to be. No matter how many times you tell yourself to just stop..to just be normal again…to breathe….it’s there. There looming up to grasp your throat and squeeze til what little life is left has vanished…vanished as if it never existed at all.

Not being quite sure if this dark grimacing emotion began before my sons death, but certainly at his death it magnified exponentially or if it was there lurking on the perimeter long before I lost him, I can only surmise that there may have always been an underlying sadness in me. My dad had a sadness that ran deep as well. Perhaps it’s a genetic tendency or just a wry twist of fate. Fate can be cumbersome and harsh.

As a society it is not a comfortable subject..sadness. It is a conversation best left behind closed doors and preferably the doors of a therapist. During the last year there were far too many times that I, this ever so strong woman, either sat in my car or stood at the end of my dock with pills in hand and contemplated ending my life. Now there’s an uncomfortable subject. Not only sad but suicidal. Pain and heartache can become so intensely intolerable that there is just no where for it to go. When younger I always believed suicide to be such a selfish act. Now I’ve come to realize that the person has just reached the saturation limit with sadness and can literally not hold another minute ounce anywhere within them.

Sadness needs to be put right out there in the open and dealt with. Above all reach out to anyone that is sad. Don’t ignore it or for God’s sake the person. Belittling or speaking down to someone in the throes of grief and sadness could just push them over the edge. Preaching to or at them will further harm them. Love and support them. There are moments when even the tiniest gesture of care can save their life.

Loss and grief from loss, of any kind, can be debilitating. Just because a person appears strong and together does not mean they are.

So strange how alone you can feel even in the midst of a large noisy crowd of people.

It was in that midst of that noise I began to observe the people ..some I knew ..but most I did not. The faces..the body language …the vacuum so apparent in most of them. Perhaps just a reflection of my own visage. So much searching to belong to some one or some thing outside of ourselves. A connection to some thing greater than what we perceive ourselves to be ….appeared to be the goal anyway…..

A sadness swept over me as I stood there watching…observing …how lonely so many of us truly are. Always searching….. a spark to ignite a few hours of laughter or perhaps more for those unafraid to venture farther. A deeper connection with those you already know for a while longer….a while longer…

Seeing some numbers exchanged I smiled and thought of the slips with numbers I had thrown away in the past ..a few even that night. Numbers to connect later but shallow attempts at finding anyone to make them feel wanted or that they matter to anyone. Attempts that would just add to the feelings of loneliness later on

I’ve sat at bars waiting for friends to end their work shifts and watched those on their phones…rather than interacting with people it appears much easier to just get lost in social media and mistake that for being connected to others .,.to reality. Rather than strike up a conversation with those around us it’s just safer to stay embedded in the lost world of our phones. That proverbial never never land where nothing is required of us..,where we can stand outside and listen but nobody knows we are there. Throw out a “like” that says yes we connect with you and possibly affirm you without risk of vulnerability to ourselves. …Make an actual comment if we are a bit more drawn in but still without risk of really exposing ourselves. Or worse we turn off the identifying “dot” that lets anyone know we are searching…to truly just watch and listen in the shadows …

Are we so afraid of committing to anyone or anything that our unknowing isolation of ourselves has deceived us into believing that this is enough? Has our fear of rejection become so paralyzing that we hide behind a “thumbs up” to wait and see if there’s a reaction from anyone as to whether we say more? To know anyone might actually care what we have to say?

I’m not certain but it would seem that to be among the living would be better than the isolation of the artificial world of media where we can hide fearlessly.

We are all searching… to connect …to know we matter…to know we have purpose..to love and be loved…for human touch

It’s ok to search but life is not just about the search. It’s about the living in it…all the messy messy living in it..chest deep in it..my aching runs deep and dark and it’s messy but I choose to FEEL it and keep pushing….

Risk

Be vulnerable

Be fearless

Regrets? Let it be for a mistake that you learned from…Don’t let it be a regret for not ever trying….

This journey of life is short…LIVE it!!!!❤️❤️❤️

What is it about our hearts that just keep beating when we have given up? It would be so much easier if it just stopped! Just…stopped….beating!!!

Stopped the pain

Stopped the anguish

Stopped the feelings of not being good enough and that crushing abyss of darkness in loss

The emptiness of loss

The harsh isolation in abandonment

Please just STOP…..just stop…

the wondering if I EVER mattered

DID I ever matter?

Was ANY of it ever real? Or just MY illusion of love…..that fleeting butterfly I chase so ardently

Lost

Broken

Stop chasing fairytales

So much easier to just stop caring…no not easier, far from easier

Trusting too deeply

Childish naivety

Stop believing words..,empty meaningless words

So foolish

Stop the foolishness…stop trusting

Wanting desperately to know it was real…not my false delusional reality

But if it was real then it would have lasted …wouldn’t it?….wouldn’t it????

The pain is excruciating and that is oh SO real

So relentless it becomes paralyzing

Ahhh but a frozen heart cannot beat; therefore can no longer feel……no delusions…no reality…just icy numbness

Just bitter Arctic ice….cold and numb

Please….please……….

How lovely it would be to have a zipper in my chest. To simply unzip and remove my heart for a while. On those moments and days when it feels as though it simply cannot survive any more pain…..Just pop it into a ziploc bag and place it in the freezer til it becomes frozen solid and numb to anything or anyone ever again. I’m not sure if anyone has ever actually died from a broken heart but in that moment, that feels as if it will surely explode, it’s hard to imagine it will keep beating…keep feeling…keep aching. How can it continue to function in this turmoil of life..my life..my insanely messy life!? It remains to be seen….

I believe the numb and cold iciness might just be a preferable solace at this juncture. Hopefully this heart anguish will pass and I will once again become stronger, more determined and far less caring. I’m quite tired of being told what a strong woman I am ….do you ever feel that… I’m strong enough now , thank you very much, I really prefer not to be one iota stronger than I already am?? So it is with me in this chaotic brain of mine sitting here writing to the universe about heart issues. The universe appears to have forgotten me down here. I’m not sure of those vibrations I read about but mine must be in some archaic dissonant chord. It’s just not connecting properly to produce a complete harmony.

Numbness..no feeling ..no longer caring.. it may sound cynical, and perhaps it is, but cynical is where I find myself today. I’m not sure I can ever trust my heart to another soul again. Vulnerability may be a great thing but it has become far far too painful to continue in its path. Naive might be a better choice of words. Yes naive and far too trusting with my once soft heart. A heart that has trusted words instead of carefully listening to the actions. Hearing , I love you, but not seeing the outward acts of being there and what love really is truly meant to be. It will indeed take some serious chiseling to get through the ice I now am starting to feel. Once the rawness of this wound starts to heal and scar with it goes the trust and naivety of that gentle loving soul. The gentleness, blind trust and caring far too deeply that once ruled it, will be gone and buried deeply in the abyss that for the past few years has clawed at my soul pulling it ever into its blackness. Maybe just maybe it will find less pain there. It remains to be seen…