Staring in the face of finite, I receive a kind reminder...
This is Love.
Life is too short.
Are endgames inevitable?
...a decision?
...a choice??
All too often it seems humans must embark upon crisis-
before course correcting to find a road of expansion?
Who rides along the unconscious wave of responsibility?
Mindlessly prodding thru day to day.
How long must we go against strengthened will to make peace with not good enough?
A job is hated.
A commitment to an unfulfilling relationship.
A list of social responsibilities.
Is it all in the mind?
What is the point of life if life does not feel good…
What is the nature of creature comforts?
I do not have the answers...
...any of them.
So I sit
in silence...
Practicing.
Then all of a sudden...
Eyes closed,
turned inside,
The incredible loss
...presents a path for awakening.
It's slow, it moves, it challenges,
What say you in the face of Destiny?
I breath.
A cheerleader rooting for the triumph, is a beautiful thing.
When my mother invited me home to heal with her. It struck me.
I had not yet considered that as an option.
I thought about it for a second, but never too much, because she was thriving.
At this time last year I was concerned I might not be able to work my job,
because a potential knee surgery.
Two weeks later, It was thru,
I never looked back.
A ten year chapter-decidedly finished-in a moments notice.
A few weeks prior I was afraid to take a step in that scary direction,
aimlessly threatening I could not go on much longer.
Unsure how I would survive a place,
temporarily missing out on something I hated.
Then the universe decided.
Navigating the time line of the last two years, has been this weird parallel universe,
I never imagined I’d encounter.
And yet here I am.
Functioning.
My therapist said she thinks I have passed the mourning phase.
I think she couldn’t be more wrong.
What might someone know of an actress presenting self
a mere 1 hour a week every other week.
I show up,
I talk.
Maybe cry a little.
I leave.
Pretending for an hour is easy.
I temper my anger.
This pain is not debilitating.
But what would the friends I have shut out over this past year know.
They don’t see me.
I don’t reach out.
I have not processed the loss of my dog,
because my mom wins.
What a strange ride.
What is in a day?
an LA day.
The sky is crisp,
the birds are chirping,
and the crack heads are whistling a mighty tune.
Even through my sadness, I recognize today is a good day,
a perfect day.
This Marco Polo was taken one year ago today 5/22/18
Oh how quickly things can change, a day, a month, a year. This time two years ago I was with Momma in the hospital, for her first round of treatment. 3 weeks…like a champ. This time last year I had just left her and her Garden of Eden. Never viewed her as sick. Still championing her kids, with all the strength she could muster, she couldn’t possibly be close to death. Never crossed my mind.
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