it's fuzzy, this image i have in my head.

we are standing there in a line in front of a piano.

it's like i'm looking at us from the other side of the room.

but i can't remember why we are there,

what we did wrong to have to be there. 

i picture us playing on the front side walk,

a gate that was latched and we had to open it.

i see the backyard and a cellar door,

but i never saw inside of it.

i remember a school across the road

and sometimes we could play on the swings there.

i see us back in the line by the piano.

i remember mostly feeling okay here,

at this house.

but sometimes the loud words scared me.

so i was silent.

i feel myself standing in the line now.

what did we do to have to stand in this line?

it's almost my turn, 

and i don't say a thing.

i am afraid,

but maybe if i stay silent, don't look up,

i won't be seen.

i don't know what happened next.

i like to enjoy the little things.  

i think i always have, 

but i'm doing it more often now i think.  

right now i'm watching the buds slowly open 

on our tree in front of our house.  

i sit in my spot on our couch, 

doing my normal things, 

and glance out a couple times a day 

to see if they've opened more.

i think sometimes that i crave simplicity.  

right now i am sitting here drinking tea, 

cozy under a blanket made for me by my mom, 

with my dog laying next to me.  

my life does not feel simple though.  

maybe this is why i crave the simple things more.  

why i pay attention to the little things even more.  

to have some quiet, some order, some calmness.  

until things get loud, chaotic, and hard and 

i am swept up into it all and 

feel overwhelmed and

just can't keep up with it all. 

i'd rather watch the little things.  

the two birds making their nest 

in the same spot they made it last year.  

the big tree out front waving its 

huge branches in the wind.  

the herons flying over our house 

from their nests to wherever they go.  

the crows as they announce my presence 

and wait for peanuts.

this feels like me.

and i am happy.

today i was sitting on the couch

with nothing to do, 

but lots i could be doing.

i was thinking about how days go by, 

we do our things we 

think we need to do.

the days just keep going and

we do the same things,

day after day.

so i pulled down some of

my favorite poetry books

and read random poems

while drinking cold tea

on a thursday afternoon.

it felt like a different thing to do

on a late afternoon.

but now i'm done reading

and someone is asking for dinner.

a dog needs outside.

someone needs to be picked up.

dishes need to be cleaned.

laundry needs to be changed over.

and i already forgot about the poems i read.

dream

you came to me in a 

dream last night.

i ran to you, 

threw my body against you,

hugged you tight,

because I knew you'd 

leave me again 

and I wouldn't know when 

i'd see you again.

you hugged me too. 

tightly.

and everything felt right.

before that, feelings of uneasiness

had been enveloping me

and consuming me

and I didn't know why.

now I know why.

i needed you.

you whispered something in my ear,

and I listened as we 

clung to each other.

and then I woke up.

your words disappeared

immediately,

but I know they were 

important.

my brain keeps searching 

for them over and over, 

but they are gone.

please come back to me again.

i'll remember this time.

i promise.

 I am 41 years old.

Sometimes I still feel like I am figuring everything out.

My beliefs, opinions, things that I assumed I'd 

already know about myself by now.

Today Roe vs. Wade was overturned 

and I'm having big thoughts.

It makes me wonder why I still don't have

my beliefs cemented down at this age.

I have an education. 

I have time on my own to study.

I have people I trust to discuss with.

But.

I still don't.  

Maybe I'm afraid to say

that I for sure believe this 

one way and that's that.

What if that changes?

What if I just don't like taking

a stance on some things?

Or, what if I don't like

explaining myself and my 

reasons to people?

Do I have to?

Is it okay to just have my 

evolving thoughts, to discuss

when I feel ready to discuss,

and to keep learning at my own pace,

sometimes coming to a conclusion,

and sometimes not?

When another 40 years has gone by,

I wonder,

will I still be like this,

and if so,

will that be okay?

 lately I have been feeling...off.

I can't really explain it, 

because I don't really understand it.

yet.

i have this feeling inside me,

like how something is on the tip of your tongue.

this feeling just isn't coming up to the surface

for me to see it yet.

and it's driving me crazy.

i'm sitting here on the couch while 

everyone else is in bed for the night.

and that feeling is so close i feel

like i can almost touch it.

but i can't.

part of me is thinking,

am i feeling like doing something radical?

am i feeling like i'm too much

a part of this world?

too bogged down with all this stuff

and technology and busyness?

maybe.  

so i'm going to sit here, and continue 

on with life and this nagging feeling

where i feel so off deep down inside of me, 

and keep hoping it reveals itself to me.

and just...

wait.

because i don't know what else to do.

everyone is in bed except me.
as I'm typing this, I look down at my left arm,
and I see eight new marks on it.

these marks will be scars
that I will always have.
they show me the reality
that my body is not okay.

this surgery will hopefully
have fixed this pain.
but there are so many other parts of me,
inside most of my body,
that hurt.

so much of the time.

sometimes I wonder,
is this what the rest of my life will be like?
will I always be this limited?
and i just don't know.

when I talk with others about it,
the few I really open up to about it,
I tell them I must do all the things to help,
so I can know I'm doing everything possible.

but really, sometimes I just want to stop.
it hurts.  bad.
I don't have the energy, the will,
to do the exercises, the research,
the more.

and so, sometimes I sit and stare.
sometimes I sit and cry.
and sometimes I think of
all the ways I wish I could move my body
but can't and probably never will again.

and then I feel worse.

because I don't feel like me anymore.