Always sharing the good. May it be in bad or good times.
Always remembering why we’re getting up each day, why we believe and hope in the midst of chaos.
So many men and women lived through troubled times. Without giving up what they believed in. We are as able as them.
So why do we keep on pointing out the worst, the dark of this world?
Why do we need to talk on and on about how worst worries?
We are the ones building the world, and if we are not able to change every single decision and every single thing that happens, we can at least focus on what makes sense and what bring us comfort and peace.
Nothing ever prepared us to live a life that was not meant for us. We spent years trying to figure out what the world wants, how to be accepted, recognized, how to fit in. And one day we discover that all of this, is complete builshit.
Our truth lies in childhood fun and dreams. It’s where it started and where it will end, only if we give ourselves the chance to let go of all limits we put on our path, of all “I should” we built, of all “not enough” we thought.
It’s not a matter of chance. It comes with understanding that the life we have has nothing to do with the life we want. It’s our choice to follow our heart or to keep going the way we do. It’s not right or wrong. It’s what appeal to us at a moment in time.
And we all know that one moment can change a whole life!
Making choices is kind of hard to me. I tend to come and go and change my mind many times a day when I need to take a decision or make a move. I find it even hard to chose between yoghurts at the supermarket, so…
I always wait – too long – for people’s approval. It may never come. Still it reassures me at times. But it keeps me dependant of what others are thinking, which come with their perception of a specific situation. That may not be mine at all.
There is one subject, thought, where I do stand my ground, despite what everybody else think and would rather do – if they’re me – they’re not, thank God!
This is about my son’s dad. For me it’s no relationship except what was stated in the divorce papers. I don’t care that he is his father – I think this is complete bullshit by the way, I mean a father is a man who cares about his child, and not about himself only.
Anyway. I am not tender with him. I will never be. I will never trust him anymore. Maybe it sounds harsh but I know him. And I know he is no good for his son. Never will be, except maybe if he realize one day (I doubt it!) the mess he’d done and take responsability for it.
I gave enough of my joy, faith, love, enough of my time, money, spirit for this guy.
I remember being angry in the past towards people who could not understand and kept telling me to be more gentle and accept that people may change.
But who can really understand this feeling of opression and being manipulated with each word said or written?
I am the one with the experience, the one with the remains of the past, the one who struggled and rebuilt my life day after day. I am the one with the knowledge of what I can give and what can’t be given – a second chance.
So I let people have their ideas on the subject. Mine is not to be challenged!
Changes are made of dust that we ought to let go
Dust can be everywhere
All the little things we thought we had swept away long ago
Like memories attached
Not wanting to be put in the first garbage can
Changes are full of excitment et fears
We only know what we wish to leave behind
And we know nothing of what’s ahead of us
We hope for the best
Sometimes it’s enough
Sometimes we go back to old habits and even lies
Just cause it feels safe in a way
Changes are processes
Nothing will happen overnight
Like a good tea
They need to brew enough
So we can make the move
It struck me recently. This life, building undergrounds, searching to get out and breath. And yet building more, as if walking without something between me and the sky, between me and the bright light, was too fearful.
So I kept finding ways to escape. I kept running out of energy in search of something I would not even dare to catch.
It sounds a bit crazy. And yet it makes complete sense when I think about it, when I take a glimpse at what I grew up with…
The idea that life and struggle come together. So if I am at peace, I may die. And I don’t want to die. So I stay in darkness, I stay in this place where I need to fight and fight back to stay alive. Every battle is a blessing, a chance given to me to live. One more day.
I don’t want to build any more tunnels, I wish to walk a new road…
She conquered her freedom
Behind the deep blue veil of the sea
Love was only a mirage
In the exchange of promises
To care and be there – always
Words came and went
Like the wind on a stormy night
They were made of broken glass
Just empty feelings
And nowhere to hide
Emprisonned inside her own mind
And crazy wishes
To end the darkness of her endless night
She set herself free
Found the key to witness the beauty
Of a purple new dawn
We are many to know that our life is not the way it should be. Yet it’s not always easy to stop the mess we are in. We need time to find our way back to ourselves. Peace and freedom are not illusions. They exist. We just have to stop, look and decide what’s best for us, at one given time. From this place, we can start on a new road. A better one for sure.
How did you start again? When did you know you couldn’t keep going and you had to make a change in your life as it was?
There was something before him. I wrote everything. I remember half of it. His love – today – does even change the past. Not what happened. But how I relate to it.
It’s less and less painful. I am moving to a place where I know myself better. Where I understand what happened better too.
Fear, it was.
Fear of not being accepted. Not being loved. I mean not being loveable. Or enough. Yes, this is it. These people who drag you down, they see themselves before seeing you. They think they are close to perfection. And you, not. You are millions steps away from it. And their job is to make you better. You should even feel blessed to have crossed their path. This is just bullshit.
So we were fake together. We didn’t work. We were not happy. Obviously. We got together for the wrong reasons. I was looking for recognition. I wanted to be useful. I wanted to count. And I got nothing but poor attention. I couldn’t count cause I wouldn’t match the perfect image of the perfect wife in a perfect mariage.
That’s it. Part of life experiences. I got lucky to escape and start again. It’s like winning the World Cup – I guess. Being able to stop the mess and start on a new track. Better road. Better people. No contest. Just be. Just love. Just live.
We knew it was about to happen
Green leaves turning gold or red
Temperatures would drop
Rain would come
Darkness would take over earlier
And we would find ourselves stuck under blankets
Sipping hot beverage and finding solace
In the season’s changes