Update to an Old Maxim

All the mistakes, missteps ~

fall on my face messes 

too often accompanied by 

swathes of guilt and shame. 

You made your bed, 

    you can lie in it. 

guilt and shame dragged, 

getting heavier, harder to 

push down year after year, 

something had to change .

You made your bed, 

    you can change the sheets.

Reminded of my change as I 

changed the sheets on my bed ~

clean and fresh as sleep settles softly.

Blackened feelings washed away.

“The present changes the past. Looking back 

you do not find what you left behind.”

~ Kiran Desai,  The Inheritance of Loss

Remembrance

 

Every year 

when I do not go 

to a cenotaph to honour 

the soldiers of past wars, 

a tiny stab of guilt is in my heart. 

yes I would get cold, 

yes, my body would ache 

yes, a crowd of strangers would be difficult. 

And then I think 

of the mud soldiers slogged through

of crowded POW camps 

of grinding cold of a war in winter, 

of wet that seeped into boots, 

of military rations, the only food available.

My guilt is dwarfed by gratitude.

Gratitude that I have a choice today.

Choice to stay home, stay warm, stay safe.

“When our perils are past, shall our gratitude sleep?”

~ George Canning, former Foreign Secretary

(1770 - 1827)

On an Afternoon Walk ~ A Guilty Pleasure

The wind whipped up every tiny dust mote, leaves, dirt and anything not tied down. So after I walked from bus to store to bus, I decided I deserved a Teen Burger. I have lots of treats that I like: chocolate, coffee, and anything I can graze on. But since I was first introduced to Teen Burgers in the late ’60’s, they have been my extra special and guilty pleasure. 

I’ve eaten lots of burgers from Texas to Kelowna to Victoria and anywhere in between but none have matched a Teen Burger. Today, I had a choice between an A&W and wait at the bus stop. I chose to get out of the wind, sit down and eat one of the delicious dripping bites I love. I even had coke in an A&W mug instead of a paper cup! Fresh and cold out of the fridge. Took me back many years. At home, I keep my garlic in an A&W large mug, a reminder of many days gone by.

“Food for the body is not enough. There must be food for the soul.”

~ Dorothy Day

The Gremlin of Guilt

Racing into a new year has never been my style. As I gather years behind me, the importance of excited celebrations has waned even further. I’m not bored with life, but cherish each day as important. Now that I don’t have to race to work, or race to other’s expectations, I have the luxury of becoming active in things that please me. Even as I write this, it sounds like I no longer care about others or the state of the world. Not true. I do know that the Gremlin of Guilt can still whisper to me. Should that little voice threaten my ability and joy in any move forward, I move forward anyway.

“Guilt is a rope that wears thin.”

~ Ayn Rand

Winter Dreamin'

Yarns spun, cosied up to a fireplace on a frigid day so cold that even the icicles are shivering,

No warmth from the sun 

covered in sweaters and blankets

weaving our dreams 

telling stories to ourselves

about beaches and the open road

in a convertible - a cherry red one - 

punishing ourselves………..No

Not punishing ourselves….

just dreams of being Thelma and Louise - 

feeling guilty for ……. No

Not feeling guilty…..

eating more mint ice cream and chocolate chip cookies

~~~~~

Reboot:

Yarns spun, cosied up to a fireplace on a frigid day,

so cold that even the icicles are shivering,

No warmth from the sun 

covered in sweaters and blankets

telling stories to myself

weaving my dreams 

about flying away to Hawaii - 

in my personal jet on flame painted wings ~

Restless and cranky…….No

calm, centered and bowing to the Universe

Sticking and stuck to the sofa……No

Up and rearranging the living room……

~~~~~

I give up - it’s all good.

I’m just making supper -

I haven’t eaten enough today…..

“When it comes to life, we spin our own yarn, and 

where we end up is really, in fact, 

where we always intended to be. “

~ Julia Glass, Three Junes

Nuances

Reading between the lines is tempting.....

tempting magical thinking and misplaced expectations

Reading between the lines is tempting….

tempting fearful thoughts and misplaced

guilt feelings

Reading between the lines is tempting….

tempting us to see life’s joyful magic,

expecting wonder

Reading between the lines is tempting….

tempting us to confront our fears in order to find our courage

Reading between the lines can be….

the birth place of resilience.

“There’s a much deeper and meaningful conversation 

being conducted in the space between the lines.”

~ Dave Cenker, Second Chance

Curb Appeal

          Curb Appeal

“When he lifted his head, she barely recognized him for the bruises.”

What kind of a writing prompt is that? Melanie really had no ideas about this one. There was no fun in that sentence. She only want to hear something funny, see sunshine, feel joy. She just knew that her teacher obviously didn’t care about how she felt. Letting out a big sigh, she got out her pen and notebook and began to write………

…….When he lifted his head, she barely recognized him for the bruises. One swollen eye and tiny cuts seeping blood. His glasses were gone! His wonderful handsome face so broken. Instantly, Lissa felt guilty that her first thought hadn’t been what his pain must be!

Lissa had gotten all dressed up for the prom and her date with Tad, the most popular boy in school. A new dress, a new pair of shoes and even a trip to the beauty salon. Ready to be whisked away, she had been ready right on time. Ten minutes past the tick of the clock she began to tap her feet. She began to shrivel up inside, sure he had decided to stand her up. Just as she giving up, her mother asked her the impossible. ‘Throw your coat on and run down to the corner store for some butter, dear. If Tad gets here before you get back, I’ll visit with him.’

She really, really was p.o.’d but whether at her mother or Tad she couldn’t tell and it just flippin’ didn’t matter. Grabbing her coat, Lissa slammed out the door. What was that on the sidewalk? Somebody throwing out good clothes? Lissa sniffed at the way people just left things lying around. Then she saw movement. It was a man! Lying on the sidewalk! Was he drunk? What was he doing there?!  One more thing to ruin her evening. First Tad, then her mother and now this!

‘Help me, Lissa!’

‘Tad? OMG! Tad!  What happened?’

When he lifted his head, she barely recognized him for the bruises. One swollen eye and tiny cuts seeping blood. His glasses were gone! His wonderful handsome face so broken. Instantly, Lissa felt guilty that her first thought hadn’t been what his pain must be!

“I tripped on the stupid curb and did a royal face plant on the cement! I was trying so hard to be on time. Your flowers! Where are they?”

Then they both began to laugh, all their nervousness and teenage angst gone. Lissa wiped Tad’s face with the sash from her new dress. She cleaned his glasses with her sweater - actually kind of smeared them and put them on his beat up face.

“I guess we’ll be late for the prom. Come on in the house and we’ll get cleaned up.”

“It is not so much what happens to you 

as how you think about what happens.”

~ Epictetus

Wind and Waves ~ 2

I was late
Only five minutes
All the rest had left before me
Guilt, disappointment
Blown away by the cold, wild wind. Washed into the waves frothing, rolling and crashing on the rocks and through seaweed.
Being a lone walker filled with possibilities to see and feel the wind and waves.

“Thou strange piece of wild nature!”

~ Colley Cibber

Like a Backward Echo

The quotation for this post I found first ~
It spoke to me first in a whisper, growing ever stronger of
unpleasant memories of creating unnecessary complications.
Running into guilty fears of never being fast enough.
Trying to untie the damage to relationship and calm.

Today when ordinary complications arise
time crunches and heart crunches want to send me back and back
until I remember the pressures I alone created.
Then I know it is time to breathe deeply and walk slowly.
In cool morning air, with slowed steps, the knots fall apart on their own.

“…..People tend to complicate their own lives, 

as if living weren’t complicated enough already.”

~ Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Shadow of the Wind

Stigma: A Challenge on Both Sides

The challenge of stigma:

Deeply felt inside by both sides

Disgust anger fear or

Shame remorse guilt

When these two trilogies come together

Sparks and words do fly viciously back and forth

understanding and compassion become debris

communication and connection last in the tumultous storm

Stigma creates it’s own challenge of

“You’re wrong and I’m right!!” vs

“I must be a wrong person but I don’t want to be!”

“To not have your suffering recognized 

is an almost unbearable form of violence.”

~  Andrei Lankov

When the Power is On

To admit 

what I think I’m guilty of,

even to myself,

curls me into myself

sends me away from healthy thought and action.

To admit 

what I think I should be ashamed of,

especially to myself,

ties me in knots
sends me away 

from healing behaviour.

~~~~~

Powerless ~

but only in active epilepsy.

when my lights go out - 

I go out ~

I am powerless over everything.

~~~~~

When my lights are on

I have the power 

to learn 

to be present.

aware of my self,

my surroundings,

clear about who I am and 

who I am capable of being.

I am only powerless over the fact of epilepsy.

“What we actually learn, from any given set of circumstances, determines 

whether we become increasingly powerless or more powerful.”

~ Blaine Lee

Author's note:  edited July 25, 2024

Awakening ~ 1

Written words 

cannot describe

seizures that grow 

from deep inside

Sudden dark 

taste of blood,

sore joints

muscles misunderstood.

Awakening to the distraught,

my guilty tears overwrought.

Written words 

cannot describe

shameful feelings 

deep inside.

“The worst guilt is to accept an unearned guilt.”

~ Ayn Rand