together

 

joining here on Fridays. 

one word. five minutes. unedited writing. share.

i work with the under 5 group 

and our days are filled with

"stay with the group." "keep together"

"don't wander off alone"

"work together please"

and of course all of those are important and good phrases.

children are safe. adults are safe. everyone is safe.

and together.

there is often one, or two that just don't want to 

"stay together" or "work together"

they beat to their own rhythm 

and hear the whispers that we,

 the together with other people most all the time,

often don't hear.

i gravitate to those little ones.

i celebrate and honour and make space for their 

aloneness

or perhaps we could rephrase it and call it 

their togetherness

with themselves. with the earth. with their art. with their storybooks.

with their emotions and thoughts and ways of seeing their world.

 i try to imagine what it must be like

to want to be alone, yet always having to be together.

our systems are set up for connection, for togetherness, for mutual support and 

this is not a mistake.

we are created for relationship

but oh how i wish we could honour our relationship with ourself first.

to be comfortable with our personal togetherness 

to detach enough from others to meet ourselves.

this. 

this inner togetherness could  lead to our community togetherness

 being stronger, more authentic,

yes?

 

visit the dark forest.

 

when i told her i was going for a walk 

i didn't think much of it but as soon as i drove off alone

the inner conversation began.

you can't go for a walk alone. You are afraid!

you don't do things by.your.self

and i found myself driving past the turn off towards the trail

deciding to {play it safe} by going to Starbucks instead.

you are to weak, to scared..you don't walk alone.

and then i decided to change that story

so i took the second turnoff to the trail and felt myself

unfurling

just a little bit.

 

i argued with myself,

 reminding my limiting inner mean girl

that i had once been a girl that climbed trees, sought out forest nooks,

visited meadows, wandered far and wide with just my camera for company.

 

  when i headed down the trail there wasn't another person in sight

yet the forest was a noisy place full of whispers, imaginary tales,

unnecessary chatter.

not the usual forest chatter i seek out and adore.

i drew my mind in, counted my steps, increased  my pace.

and walked.

simple yes, walking?

 yet not.

i bounced from calm to fear, clear to foggy, brave to scared

i rounded a corner and found an oasis.

people. so many people. 

all together in one spot.

this is not my usual definition of oasis.

yet,

my body relaxed.

darkness is balance by light

and for that moment,

the quiet forest was my dark place and the people my light.

are you sure you want to continue?

 you can turn around now. you did enough.

but i continued on,

 determined to be bigger than my irrational fears.

{this is a very safe trail i was traveling}

yet my pace quickened. my heart joined.

the forest dimmed. and became empty again.

hurry, hurry. rush, rush.

i round a corner and there coming up the trail 

is an older woman with her aged dog.

she is ambling.

 strolling. 

stopping 

whenever the dog stopped.

she is slow,

 relaxed, 

leisurely.

and i laugh at myself in the kindest way possible

because i really do love it when the light turns on for me

in the sweetest of ways.

slow your pace tania. nothing, no one is coming to get you.

    and i slowed my pace to an amble. 

unfurled a little bit more.

the forest thinned as it always does,

sunlight kissed my shoulders and they relaxed from around my neck.

of course now

 i could hear the birds sing,

 notice the leaves crunch,

observe the changing forest

 from the last time i had been there with owen.

the ferns were finished their own unfurling

for the season

 reaching tall and green towards the sky.

you missed it. you are too late. the unfurling has already occurred.

it is too late for you to blossom as you so wish.

this time i know the voice. and i know what to do.

i am all warmed up.

i don't ignore her

-the mean girl inside of me-

but i answer her back.

i am right on time for my unfurling.

this is perfect timing sweet lady, 

it is not a race. 

and i amble all the way back to the car.

 

little love notes

 

 

"little love notes that sometimes 

I can't be sure were from God

 or me doing something nice for myself.

But does it matter?...God is love so wherever love flocks to,

He must be a part of it too."

-Mandy-

(Thrashing About With God p.83)

i want to tell her.

i want to tell her to remember.

to remember that even when life feels so very hard

there is joy to be found.

i want to gently coax her back into the living

 by reminding her that tears before rising

 are not the way the story has to end.

 

 i want her to retrain her eyes to see beauty

everywhere!

i want to comfort her and wrap my arms around her

and whisper sweet nothings to her.

i want to blanket her with so much love.

i want to tell her that this is only a part of her story.

and it is a worthy part. an important part,

that deserves time and attention

but only a part.

there is so much more to her

than her broken parts.

church

 

i have been thinking about church.

even typing the words can cause me to break into a cold sweat.

there is a story here.

many. 

and they are coming. 

i can feel them.

today i finished reading Mandy's new book

"Thrashing About With God- Finding Faith on the Other Side of Everything"

that arrived in my mailbox yesterday

(one of the gift of an unexpected day off  is time to read)

"But I don't want to go back. Not ever. It's broken there.

"It feels broken here sometimes too" God said to me, touching my chest.

 "But you don't let that stop you."

My ego doesn't want to go back. My ego thinks going back means I've let them win."

-Belong pg.175-

and my heart thumped with recognition.

i hear myself in her story over and over again.

 

  i am in the baby steps of accepting that after 13 long years that

 it is time to talk this out.

join me?

because it works for me.

 

 

 

the gathering, the sorting, the gluing, the secret messages,

the "working it out on the page"

the documenting, the processing, the sorting of emotions.

i can speak through a page. to myself. to others.

to the future, to the past. 

there is healing here for me;

 a place where i make friends with myself.

with my lovely and not so lovely parts.

a spot to try on different beliefs and thoughts,

dreams and ideas

and not hear the voices of disapproval

 that still sometimes ring loud in my ears.

i become my own cheerleader and advocate

reminding myself of so much

that sometimes i just can't see.

 

 

 

 

 

oh the stories i could tell..sept/oct