if all of life were this lovely
there would be no fear
or troubles between people
if all of life were as innocent
as a flower,
and every sound
as peaceful as petal dust,
if every breeze brought only lovely summer scents
then, just perhaps,
could be kind and lovely
to one another as well
Posts tagged love
if all of life were this lovely
Now that I am old enough to enjoy thoughts of what I want to do when I grow up – and to effect decisions about how i will live my life as it is now – i can finally feel victorious over those painful memories of the impossibility of living the life i was in at the time . . .
Back then, i was unable to create any life at all, for myself and my daughters. I couldn’t make the break with the past and go forward. I couldn’t find the answer – my life was at checkmate.
The grim Reaper waited, hands reaching toward me, willing me to quit. My daughters needed me to be strong, to take care of them, to make a home for them.
Go forward or die.
I was not his victim. I realize that now. I could have walked away a thousand times before I became so stuck in my own mind that escape seemed impossible. In the end, I became my own victim. I decided to believe that the things he said about me were true, his estimation of my worth as a human being, and my abilities as a parent.
He said that I would never leave him because I could never make it on my own, that I would never be able to support our children. And I decided to believe that I needed him. I decided to believe that I was helpless without him. I decided that it was my destiny to have that life, and that I deserved my fate.
I hope that you are well and at peace tonight. I walked outside and breathed in the Universe for a few minutes earlier. Loving the trees, touching leaves with my fingertips. Barefooted, feeling the earth beneath me.
We have a storm coming, and the sky is a misty, leaded grey. Highlighted against [...]
The abuser does not have a need to recover when the relationship ends. He simply moves on. He has his pride to protect. He puts on his nice guy face and goes out hunting for a fresh victim. He will tell everyone that he sent the other on her way.
The old woman in the mirror greets me with a sleepy scowl. Wrinkles are breaking out like acne. I used to have a neck. Where did my neck go?
I am sixty-two. How did I ever get this old? Half way to one hundred twenty-four.
I guess a few wrinkles are appropriate.
Some days, [...]
I felt like I had been targeted for murder. Might have been true. Might have just been sloppy work. Was it because of the life insurance policy recently offered by my office? Was it because his true self was about to become known. Or, all of the above? I guess that will never know, and I do not want to know.
Pain has been my constant companion
for may days and nights
and long ago
and years to go from now
if that be so
. . a woman is battered every nine seconds in the United States.
. . . domestic violence kills ten women every day in this country.
This morning we put my sweet Lou to sleep. He had a cancer and he was “bleeding out” internally. He was only seven. This is one of the cruelest of all necessities of love. Love them enough to let go. Love them enough to kiss them goodbye.