Continuity

Seems logic has flown

Reality has shown some
mighty unreal hands as of late.

But I hate to ramble on 

and take up your time.

It is what it is, after all, 

according to stoicism

--and news flash:  I'm the world's WORST STOIC. EVER.

However, one concept that stands out 

that I must better embrace is "Amor Fati--love it all"

--in other words, take the bad with the good

and love it all, however you can.   

Damn, that's a hard one for me right now. 

Learning to embrace the suck 

right along with the stuff that almost sucks life away too...woo hoo!!! 

Sorry, my rose-colored glasses 

I nearly always wear 

were steamrolled, 

torched, and 

blew away in a tornado 

that tore through my life.  

But, alas, life goes on, 

and so must the show, 

and so must I.  

Time's the one thing 

of which we don't have nearly enough.

I should know.

It's my business.

To be in the know.

To be able to show others 

how to handle themselves

when the time comes.

And come it will.

That is the one certain thing

in this uncertainty of life we lead.

I'm a walking contradiction, 

in all kinds of ways.

I'm sensitive and intuitive but 

tough and hardened 

by what I've gone through 

and survived and witnessed firsthand.

I'm a warrior and a caregiver.

A nurturer and teacher.  

A lover and a fighter.

Scared-y cat yet defender

of those with no voice or place.

Just like me--I know that feeling,

and so they claim me as theirs. 

Others rely on me;

but I can seldom, if ever, rely on them

when I truly need to.  

When my chips are down.

Don't need to be Khaleesi to know

It is known.

I used to believe in happily ever after for myself.
Maybe someday I will again. Who knows. 

Yet I still have hope for others.  

All I need 

is a shoulder to cry on 

once in awhile,

a good workout, 

a roof over my family's head, 

food in their tummies, 

not even in my own; 

reliable transportation,

and the ability 

to contribute to important things that 

really 

make 

a 

difference 

an impact and 

all that truly matter in this world.  

Safety. Security. Stability.  

Simple things (in Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs as it were).  

Smaller circle, lesser risk.

Hmmmm, makes sense, simple enough, 

but...

Then there's me.  

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DO THAT

and to my own self be true.
I can't do both at the same time. 

Believe me, I've tried. 

And tried. And tried. 

Tug-o'-war rips me apart.

I just seem to mess it up and disappear, you know. 

Full turtle (not Monty, you python).

Like now.

Into everything around and inside

swirling all around. 

How's that supposed to work and not

all at once?

Maybe it's the way it's supposed to be?

This is the way?! Oh really....
Mmmmmmkayyy.

I think my heart broke years ago, 

but I refused to accept nor understand it. 

At times I don't even know if I still have one, 

or if it works anymore....

Somehow I feel I am meant to be alone 

down the road in awhile

for the rest of this journey. 

But, truth be told:

I could definitely use 

a couple of choice kindred spirits 

with a bit of spare time to 

chew the fat, 

work out, or 

pass some time 

to keep me out of my own head 

which never seems to stop. 

I'm a people person, 

just not for the faint of heart 

nor artifice of countenance.  

So I remain on the fringes and deep dive into my work and my angel's future.

I'm an open book, 

cannot be fake if my life depended on it, 

so I am my own friend and enemy, 

strength and weakness, 

and I own both fully. 

You think I'd get used to being hurt and wise up, 

but I kindly redirect you to the previous ramblings and 

pause here, eyebrow cocked and lip pursed, arms crossed, tapping my barefoot. 

Sarcasm and eyeroll are given oh so freely. 

I'm equal parts saint and sinner 

and both are absolutely me.

Stop being so either or, 

that's so limiting. So flat. 

Abstract, even. 

The very few who truly know will 

laugh till they cry at that image:

for I'm anything but that.

Something much muchier and more, something full, 
squishy flowing, driven, scared, listening, 

feeling, burning--  

Not quite sure how to describe it, 

but it drives me in all I do, think, feel.

I feel the Spirit,

as well as the voices of my parents, grandparents, and others speak to me, 

regardless if I'm following perfectly as I've been spiritually raised.  

The way I figure, someone's gotta be collateral damage 

to do the necessary dirty work to make things happen.  

If not me, it'll be someone else. 

So why not me, Wynona....

I'm here, I'm willing, I'm ready to do what needs to be done.  

I agreed to this long long ago when YOU said you wanted to see if I'd come and I did.  

So, 

here. 

I. 

AM. 

DAMMIT.

At least 

I can work my hardest 

with every ounce of grit I can muster 

to make a difference and 

make this world a bit of a better, more hopeful, brighter place 

for my beloved angel and the future generation of precious souls

so I can leave this world a bit better when my time is truly up.

After all, life goes on.  

All we are is dust in the wind, right?  

I'm supposed to be the one with the answers, 

the one with the witty questions and counter situations,

quick on my feet and silken steel under pressure. 

provocative thought and devil's advocate and all that jazz.  

That's my role, my zone, my jam, what I was meant to do.  

I used to be the life of the party and quite the looker.  

HAHHHHHH!!!!!! 

Give me deep conversation or connection, 

better yet right now, this very moment: 

give me a beautiful beach at moonlight, 

and I'm a rich rich woman.

The sea understands me.  

Always has.  Always will.

And so it goes. 

People either get me or they don't,

that's my lot in life, and I've gotten used to it.  

Not ever fitting in.  

That's my niche, my role-- the outsider with insight, 

the one who can connect when others can't begin to fathom--

because of all the junk I've been thru crammed into less than half a century of living.  

That's why I feel so old and young at the same time.  

And so it goes.  

Life.  the cycle.  

Preparedness, 

Response, 

Recovery, 

Improvement. 

Continuity.  

That beautiful word.

The dreams and things get more real, 

more steady, rapid-fire-paced

more disturbing 

yet calming 

--making more sense now than ever before

as the crazy stuff I see everyday all around me ramps up

and is ingloriously here and now.  

Who the hell knew I'd EVER end up here.

Definitely not me, 

I'm usually the last one to know, 

the one lucky key master 

holding the bag at the party 

while everyone gets to play but me--

nope, not me, I'm pulling a Lloyd Dobler, forever, it seems.

No pen, no boombox in the rain. oh well.  

And so it goes. 

I came here

kicking and screaming

to this godforsaken place 

I nicknamed HELL.

Crying and all the typical female antics--

deep down I knew.

I just knew it would come down to this.

But, truth be told, 

things weren't really peachy
for awhile before that, if I'm being fully honest.

I wasn't ready to have that conversation with myself.

You know, the one where the grown up you and the teenage you

try to have a coming-to-Jesus moment about the shit that's gone down.

The world all around you broken 

into shards, 

and you're standing, 

panting, breathing, bleeding, 

but still standing.  

Not knowing how or why,

just putting your training into play--

one millisecond at a time, 

play after play, day after day, 

task upon task...one foot in front of the other

as you watch the beautiful wreckage 

burst into flames in the night.

Beautiful, breathtaking sight, 

even if catastrophic--

there's beauty all around, when there's love at home.

Even if the home is one little angel 

whose every hope and dream, 

every possibility, 

every strength, 

every skill 

depends on YOU.

The crazier the crazy gets, 

the calmer I get, 

that's how you know I've truly seen stuff--

not by what I say,

not by my resume or credentials or me blathering about--

but by what I don't say, 

by how much calmer I get, 

and everything just slows down to milliseconds. 

This. 

is. 

why. 

I'm. 

here. 

Period. 

Whether you like it or not,  

I really don't give a rat's ass.  

This isn't about you.  

It's most definitely not about me.  

It's about something so much bigger and greater 

and hella dangerous that I lack words to even try to describe it.  

And that's saying something.

When I get quiet, you should be afraid. 

Very afraid. In fact, RUN.

I'm here because I'm needed, 

I'm boots on the ground, 

I got skills you need and a perspective you lack. 

I round out your team.  

I don't want to be in charge or steal anyone's thunder, 

I don't give a crap about any of that--you take it.  

Have fun with that, darlin'. 

Beware of the thorns on them there roses, now.  

So you smile

through the pain, 

through the turmoil.

You've been through tough before, 

but you used to have family, 

which made it so much more bearable.

This is BEYOND that. 

Gulp.

You could carefree stare off at the sea, 

daydream of days long bygone, 

smelling and feeling of home, just for a moment.  

But stupidity and selfishness 

shatter everything

into fragments of stained glass.  

Funny, that.

I love stained glass,

and mosaics, and 

anything clay, 

glass, 

metal or ceramic.  

So I'm left bleeding, alone, reeling, 

staggering to stand my ground, 

get my bearings back, 

and make something beautiful 

out of the wreckage that has been my life of late.  

Some brand new adventure

with my Angel--

maybe something with a friend or 

fellow COOP-er along the way 

in this strange place.  

Funny how art gives perspective, 

gives hope, 

gives healing, 

and beauty, 

a colorful light amidst the darkness--

which is why I'm forever drawn to it. 

FEMA ICS concepts fill 

my blonde-aired-y head, 

as I inhale the dusky cooling air, 

wishing to tears it was seaside, 

the burning hope and 

my lil' future asleep,

snoring in my arms, 

and I sit and finally digest that 

everything in life falls under the concept of continuity.  

Click. 

Lightbulb. 

Whatever.

DING DING DING!

So glad this ol' weathered dog can still learn some new tricks. 

I'm back to flyin' the COOP

rev. 3/2/2021