You see where I went wrong to go right, was with an unforgiving heart. When I made my life about my needs, or what someone could do for me, I became disabled in my own capacity to love and accept others as they were. And there are living ghosts that haunt me along the way.
Some say laughter is the best cure. While others might think it painful to laugh at such a situation. Like learning to count, and being so happy that you have learned! Like saying I really have done my best this time, Like saying I miss you and I mean it. Like it came from miles away...like someone saying I completely understand you!!! AND then in shock, well so do I!
Wanting so badly to rewrite the script but knowing I wasn't the only writer for that scene...I wasn't the only peacemaker, or lover for that matter. Just that I had love in my heart was enough to know it was beating, and real, and there could be consequences for every action. AND an action is just in a moment. Just something real and articulate, and maybe just a symbol, that all hope is not lost. That I could change the ending of any sentence to suit whom I was writing to and why. To believe I have advocates, knowledge, and can simply breathe, well that would be the surefire way to evacuate and extinguish a very fire set ablaze in my own kitchen. Well right!
And trust. AND trust that even if I did not know who I was on my own, or on this side or that side of the fence, that someday there would be a calling...and I may know the answer already, and I may not. I may have to take my time, and settle for less than expected, or more for that matter...or just anything inspiring a true song.
If every nursery rhyme and song repeated to teach me, would I have sung in tune? Probably not. Probably in something like harmony. But it wouldn't have made me the odd one out, except in my own mind...because when I sing along to songs while doing the dishes in my own home, I sound pretty darn good. I don't want to be on a stage though. Just level headed in my own home, where my heart is happy and I find rest.
No one ever told me your voice wasn't beautiful. You had to learn to talk before you could write! And when I forgive myself I can forgive others. AND as deceptive to naivety, before it was a big silly grin. And I never did do so much writing as I did to catch up with myself.
Miles of it.
Some say laughter is the best cure. While others might think it painful to laugh at such a situation. Like learning to count, and being so happy that you have learned! Like saying I really have done my best this time, Like saying I miss you and I mean it. Like it came from miles away...like someone saying I completely understand you!!! AND then in shock, well so do I!
Wanting so badly to rewrite the script but knowing I wasn't the only writer for that scene...I wasn't the only peacemaker, or lover for that matter. Just that I had love in my heart was enough to know it was beating, and real, and there could be consequences for every action. AND an action is just in a moment. Just something real and articulate, and maybe just a symbol, that all hope is not lost. That I could change the ending of any sentence to suit whom I was writing to and why. To believe I have advocates, knowledge, and can simply breathe, well that would be the surefire way to evacuate and extinguish a very fire set ablaze in my own kitchen. Well right!
And trust. AND trust that even if I did not know who I was on my own, or on this side or that side of the fence, that someday there would be a calling...and I may know the answer already, and I may not. I may have to take my time, and settle for less than expected, or more for that matter...or just anything inspiring a true song.
If every nursery rhyme and song repeated to teach me, would I have sung in tune? Probably not. Probably in something like harmony. But it wouldn't have made me the odd one out, except in my own mind...because when I sing along to songs while doing the dishes in my own home, I sound pretty darn good. I don't want to be on a stage though. Just level headed in my own home, where my heart is happy and I find rest.
No one ever told me your voice wasn't beautiful. You had to learn to talk before you could write! And when I forgive myself I can forgive others. AND as deceptive to naivety, before it was a big silly grin. And I never did do so much writing as I did to catch up with myself.
Miles of it.