In the Morning …Running with what you’ve got

So, my mornings are always morning before morning should be allowed

I’m not a morning person…working on this…

But in anticipation of tomorrow, I plan.

I pack lunchboxes and clean and lie clean clothes on racks and hooks, and find shoes lost by minions (small people I’m charged to raise)

But, unfortunately, sometimes I dread the day ahead.

I’m not proud of it.

And I think if His mercies new every morning and the blessing of parenthood and employment and a life well lived.

But in reality, I go to bed knowing my alarm will sound the horror bell of having to wake up when I want to sleep.

Still, there’s a blessing when the coffee and the day kick in.

When sunlight brings possibilities that I haven’t imagined.

So I ride before the sun and do it again and again.

This life doesn’t have to be brilliant or awesome in the light of day but it has to continue to bring meaning.

So today leads to tomorrow and every moment, even the mundane, leads to greatness.

Will I be remembered for the lunches I pack and the jokes I wrote in sharpie on ziplock? Probably not. But will I be remembered for my perseverance and strength? I hope so.

Wake up tomorrow and do it again.

Just go!

One foot in front of the next, in excellence. It’s all anyone can ask and it’s more than enough.

Two cents from the routine.

Two cents to manufacture a million. Just RUN!

Confessions of a Narcissist’s Wife

I will never be myself again.

I will apologize for every statement.

Okay get it. I will walk on eggshells while the earth shatters.

I will stand alone beneath the weight of injustice.

I will take responsibility.

Nothing is anything apart from you so I will hide

And tomorrow might be better or not

And today is a drop in the bucket of eternity.

Because I can’t long for you anymore while you throw me under the bus.

But that’s life in the land of the living and the sun will rise and I will forgive and we will call it growth.

That’s just movement in the stagnant waters while the void calls for justice.

I will apologize.

I will find my own fault in your weakness.

I will stand alone.

I will bear the weight of the world while you cower.

Tomorrow, bring your anchor.

Dawn…maybe

You were a dream when my eyes were fixed on more

You held me until the pain stopped then you brought it again

And I get lost sometimes in us and who we are

And I wonder if you see me

I wonder if light breaks darkness like the hammer I think it is

Then, I go to sleep and hope

You are my dream

Maybe dawn will bring light

Either way, He makes all things new

Good morning world

I’m happy to meet you

Spinning

The earth spins round until we are dizzy

Maybe today is tomorrow again or yesterday unleashed.

I don’t know

But I know I love you

And I know you and I are fixed in space and moment

And love is bigger than now

Eternity unleashed in the presence of my heart

Maybe it’s enough

If not, I’ll try again tomorrow

Who can imagine

I sit at the table of a hundred imaginings

Holding my breath for the light

And the darkness can feel suffocating at times

But the light encompasses

And I wait for the music to rescue so I can sing along

But tonight, melody is fleeting

But God…

Superlative and encompassing

Beautiful and victorious in the midst of me.

Hope can be found in breathes…in moments when I inhale and exhale song and melody and the brooding chaos of the ache.

Tonight, the song can capture the waking wonder and I can imagine tomorrow

And maybe that’s enough

I’ll keep you posted.

Alone

Alone is an underrated word

Do we know what it means?

Have we felt its sting to the fullest?

Have we walked in the dark groping for candles or matches or a cell-phone glare?

Have you lived if?

I have

Or maybe I haven’t

In its depths, there is always a glimmer

In its talons, a minute scrape of resistance

The physical gives way to the spiritual and light lives

Darkness runs from a spark

Lord, tonight, be that spark

Strength perfect in weakness

Hope in the failing and the chaos.

That’s who You are!

Breathe when the lungs have stopped

Pump when the heart has stopped beating

Be near when everything feels distant.

That’s who You are

And I trust you!

On Reminiscing

Some nights revolve around the past…

It’s not that it started out that way but it ends in reminiscence of days gone by and memories you treasure.

Is it good or bad?

I don’t know the answer.

Enlighten me, people of Earth.

When reminiscence leads to wonder about what could have been it can lead down a rabbit trail of “bad”.

You know, a rabbit trail, when the bunnies roam in random directions and you chase them to find the meaning?!?

Or maybe it can lead to the realization of what was and is…

Sometimes I don’t know if I’m qualified to proffer an opinion.

But tonight, in the noise of my mind and the chaos of surrounding serenades, I’m happy to revel in what was and what could be.

Maybe I’ve missed the mark of greatness. Maybe time is not my biggest fan. Maybe I’ve suffered beyond the point where suffering should stop. But hope…

Hope lives in the dream!

Hope is in tomorrow!

Yesterday can remind me of what, not only was, but can be.

Isn’t that worth the struggle?

The “fight” can be in the hands of the unseen. The “fight” can be in the next breath.

Dare me to dream!

I will wake and go for broke.

It’s who I am and I’m not changing now. I’m not about to give up or give in.

Will me this moment to conquer the world.

I’ll see you on the other side!

Thunder

I was a human once.

I lived, I breathed, I knew who I was.

It was somewhere between where husband number one left me a puddle on the floor and husband number two decided I wasn’t enough.

Maybe I’m not.

Maybe they’re not.

I’m not qualified to say.

Tonight, I’m thinking I am beyond expectations and they are the fault.

Regardless, I’m here with the pieces.

Pieces are a funny thing. They fall in random intervals. They collide with ideals. They stick themselves in places you didn’t see coming.

But you hang on, groping for tomorrow because maybe it will be better and maybe peace can be found.

Maybe, instead of the ideal that someone will rescue me, I can find solace in me and my faith and the promise of tomorrow. I am tired.

I’m tired of picking up pieces and expecting gold.

Still, I am an optimist. I believe in tomorrow.

But today is real and I need to feel it to gather the gold.

So I struggle and rest in the same breath.

I am me and for tonight, that is enough. Tomorrow may be another story.

Shine when the darkness covers.

Shine when you can’t find light.

Today is a day gone…tomorrow is eternity, so live!!!!

Random thoughts from the lost and tired.

Be you!

Bring the thunder and the light will follow…at least that’s the hope.

Feminism, Covid, and Reality

I consider myself a strong woman. I do what needs to be done. If I don’t know how, I figure it out. If I can’t figure it out, I figure that out.

I’m in a mood tonight. I’m sure it’s primarily caused by the fact that I tested positive for Covid yesterday. I’m fine. It’s a mild case and will pass in no time, hopefully. Still, it is hard for me, as a mother, to sit in bed and rest and leave the heavy lifting to my husband.

I appreciate his willingness to help. I truly do. Still, one day in, and he seems frustrated. The kids and dinner, and lunch packing, and laundry, are apparently too much for him. He’s complaining and my house is a disaster. Yet, these things are my reality, after I work a full time job.

So I’m stuck between frustration that I can’t do all I do and annoyance that all of these things fall to me everyday and my husband can’t handle it for a day.

So where does my inner feminist stand on this issue? Is it okay with me that I do it all? Is it okay that it’s expected of me yet looked at with sympathy when he has to do it?

Is it okay that I, a strong woman, feel like crap, not because I literally feel like crap, but because, I can’t do it all? Why do I have to do it all? When did feminism become the ideal that women do everything? Why is it okay for me to feel bad because I feel bad?

I realize I may sound ungrateful and I don’t mean it that way. This isn’t even about my husband. It’s about me. I’ve become so ingrained in my role as mom and homemaker that despite the fact that I’m the primary breadwinner in my household, I still feel guilty if it isn’t all perfect.

This week, I cannot make it perfect. I’m isolated to my bedroom to keep from contaminating my family and I feel like my world will end because my kitchen is a mess and I can’t go clean it! It’s torture. Part of me would rather we all catch Covid than allow my kids’ bathroom to go without being cleaned and that is on me.

Or maybe society or whatever ridiculous norms are expected of us mothers and women trying to do it all. Feminism was made for equal rights yet it’s become unequivocal.

Why can’t a man work and scrub the dishes? Why can’t a man work and clean a toilet? Why do I feel so guilty because I’m sick?

I blame Covid for the mood but not entirely…it’s probably been brewing for awhile. Still, this week is testing my patience. But soon, I will feel better and take it all with grace.

Another day, another virus, another annoyance, another reason for me to question the system we’ve created.

It is what it is…