musings: March 2009

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

cauterizing me

I perched on the counter
and leaned towards you anxiously.
My shoulders hunched,
at odds with the cozy heat of the kitchen.

Amidst the sound of the rich coffee percolating,
I whispered my fears.
Letting my tongue form the words;
the demons that have been hijacking my thoughts.

And as the tears rolled down my face,
I spoke of the paralysis that I felt.
How scared I really was
and whether I had the courage to rip open those raw wounds
and start my healing.

While I talked, your eyes caressed me;
gently stroking the catch in my throat
until I calmed.
I heard you speak to me softly,
asking me to search myself for what it is that I wanted.

Whether I was ready to face all the darkness that seemed to engulf me.

And then you touched my hand; grounding me.
Reminding me of the electricity of your being
And what it takes to cauterize failure, and turn it into something of strength.

- lml March 25, 2009

Friday, March 20, 2009

Denying denial

I struggle with the concept of denial. It's a yo-yo relationship that stems back to my early years in a religious school; the belief that denial is a constructive way to grow.

I have a really strong reaction to that concept. I feel, instinctively, that denying one's self of something doesn't make you grow; it makes you shrink and constrict. It tightens you; prevents you from letting go. Forces you to hold on to something fiercely.

When I deny myself of something, I feel like I am not accepting all the parts of me. I'm not accepting the little patches of colors and textures and motifs that make up who I am. I am informing my psyche that there are pieces of me that are bad, there are wants that I have that are wrong, there are parts of my whole that are not OK. And that what is right is to stuff those elements of my personality into a little box and lock it up.

In doing so, I learn not to accept certain parts of myself. I learn not to sit with those aspects of my self in compassion and patience and understanding. I teach myself that parts of me are not acceptable and not worthy. I feel guilty for enjoying those pleasures…

And I am startled by the intense feelings of rebellion and anger. Of being anxious and unhappy. Of wanting to flee. And when I have the chance, I end up overindulging because I've starved that part of myself for so long.

I wonder how the experience of denial can be healthy and constructive. I wonder how to learn and become more self-aware in that kind of a cycle. And I wonder how I can grow in that kind of an environment.

I'm not sure denial is for me. I don't quite know where the balance is, between too much and too little. I suspect that the middle ground is a place where there is openness, patience, awareness and acceptance.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Wordsmithing

Revelation of the day: I miss words!!

I've been working in a new career for a few months now. I spend my time researching and analyzing. Finding solutions. Strategizing. I enjoy the challenge of change, of solving problems, of learning, of developing vision. I've been immersed in the world of "E" - the Web, social media, electronic communication.

Just today, I had an opportunity to review a document for someone outside of work, and I realized that I miss writing. I miss words. Well, to be more precise, I miss editing!

I miss reviewing content, reorganizing it, making editorial changes, solving word problems, offering up suggestions... I miss that whole experience of cleaning up words and making content more effective and accurate.

Wow. This is a huge realization for me. And I'm not quite sure what it means. For now, I think I'll let this sit awhile and simmer and see what speaks to me. ; )

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

traveller's itch

In the tradition of blogging my travel adventures, I set up a new blog for my Oman adventure in April 2009. Feel free to check it out!

Lala of Arabia --> http://www.arabianlala.blogspot.com

If you'd like to read my other travel blogs, you can find them here:

http://nzlisa.blogspot.com/ (A Backpack, three weeks, and New Zealand: March-April 2005)

http://leprechaunlala.blogspot.com/ (Footprints and Pints in Ireland: May 2006)

http://thailala.blogspot.com/ (A tiny taste of Thailand: July-August 2007)

Happy wanderings. : )

Sunday, March 08, 2009

dreams

I'm afraid to dream
to breathe the essence of what I yearn for
as if by forming the syllables with my lips
the alchemy of life will change them
and I'll be left with the whispers that haunt me at night

I'm afraid to wish
to want something so badly that it consumes me
intoxicates me with passion and ardor
leaving me spent

I'm afraid to turn that page
to see the script of the future
the calligraphy of my soul
tattooed in my heart

I'm afraid to close my eyes at night
that perhaps I will not wake
and with that, the knowledge that I have not lived.

- lml march 2009

Friday, March 06, 2009

stuffing the closet

I've been feeling scatterbrained the last few weeks.

It seems that the closet where I throw my thoughts, tasks, light-bulb moments, really nice ideas that I just haven't gotten around to doing, dreams and schemes, and other miscellaneous clutter is dangerously full. Every time I need to toss in another item, I can only figuratively inch the door open and hope the whole mess doesn't come tumbling down on me.

I think I generally like being jumbled and discordant. I like doing what I feel is impulsive and whimsical. I have spent the last few weeks laughing a lot, playing even more, and enjoying every last lick of it.

And I feel like I'm managing just fine. I got my taxes done, am actively studying for a test at the end of March, have made progress in work deliverables and vision, and even enjoyed some lovely, quality time with my closest friends. I sleep soundly at night and wake feeling relaxed and refreshed. I have a good quantity of energy and zest. And the spring feel in the air is making me excited.

Yet, I feel like I'm waiting for the walls to come crashing down. Like, at any moment, something is going to give, and I have no idea what it will be. Like that closet is lurking, eerily, in the back bedroom of my subconscious - a dark, musty closet that you know will reveal something nasty.

And being the procrastinator that I am, I think I'd much rather have a house fire blaze through that particular room, then have to roll up my sleeves and dig in; sort through the debris and make some sense of it all. I know I'm not quiet inside, and so I'm likely projecting that into my world. I don't feel discontent, but I also don't feel peaceful - and so the world around me becomes hyper and crazy.

And just as I am typing this, I meet a new colleague at work who tells me that he has leukemia. He's a young, fit, attractive guy. He's married and has a toddler at home. He smiles gently when he tells me that he's just getting back to the gym since he had 12 months of chemo. He describes that he will live with cancer in his blood for the rest of his life; monitoring his white blood cell count every three months. That if his levels deteriorate, he'll get back on the "soup"; the toxic cocktail that gives him a chance to live longer with his family. He talks about how this kind of thing puts life into perspective and makes it easier to laugh and to love. And then he walks away; munching on a donut.

And with that life lesson, I can feel my body relax. I can feel that noise in my head quiet. I can feel the tears brimming in my eyes. And I thank him silently for the gift he has just given me.

Wednesday, March 04, 2009

March sunshine

I'm a March baby. I'm a Spring baby. I was born two days after the official start of Spring. Ironically, my birth occurred in the middle of a huge snow storm in Montreal, and my mother wasn't sure if she would actually make it to the hospital in time for my birth.

And I am aware that I'm an optimist. I get so much of my energy by seeing the world in a positive way; looking for the silver lining present in every situation.

So, I don't know if this feeling comes from me being born at this time of the year or whether it stems from my enthusiasm, but I am noticing that the sun feels different in March.

Yes, it's still bitterly cold outside. The kind of cold that whacks its way into your bones and leaves your teeth rattling on the way out. The kind of cold that paralyzes your lungs when you inhale deeply. A frigidness that makes you feel inspired to layer your clothes, take an extra portion (or two) of cheese and breads and comfort food, and lock the door until mid August.

But the sunshine feels different in March from the sunshine in February or late November. It feels warm. It feels stronger. When it touches your face, streaming through a window or brightly lit outside, I feel my skin heat up. I can feel my body relax into it. I can feel my spring soul jump excitedly.

"Spring is coming!", I hear my inner voice tell me, "Spring is coming!"