Life changes, and we with it, so although the URL remains the same, you'll find the content very different. This is me just looking to figure stuff out and maybe at some point find a softer place to land. For now though, things are a bit hard and unpredictable, making it an uncertain journey. I will use this space to share thoughts, ideas, insights, and probably even pain. Depending on how my day is going, the posts will vary accordingly, so, if you want to look away, I get that.

Oh, I don't mind if you share or use, but please do the right thing and credit me for any written word you take from this page.

Thursday, October 23, 2014

Through the knothole darkly

It's a small space a knothole, but surprisingly capable of supporting a long dark journey. While knotholes look relatively harmless from an outside view, the close-up view reveals it as a hazardous place - a long tunnel with walls worn smooth as glacier ice and sheer edges sharp as an obsidian blade. These edges, constructed from lost love, betrayal, broken trust, deceit, false promises, lies, and hurtful words each bear their own poison of pain and despair.

The journey alone is hazardous, but made more so  by the lack of light and unsure footing. As you are pulled through, each memory slashes at you as you think back and wonder: how much was real? In the knothole you are caught up in trying to think your way through logically, but then the emotion obstacles push you toward the brink and the energy to avoid that deadly sharp edge is not available to you. You try anyway. You think "if I can understand, maybe I can avoid the hazards. Maybe if I can make sense of it,it will take less time." Not true in the knothole, because in that space of slippery slopes you can't stop going over the same things, again and again...and again.


Deceit:  Two people together, but each in a different relationship, one believing the relationship would last, that we would be together always. For the other a very specific end date, actually on a calendar, a fact kept hidden, for fear of "upsetting the apple cart." That is one of the sharpest edges, impossible thus far not to slash myself.

Betrayal and broken trust:  Pursued relentlessly, across two countries, pretty words that say there is value and respect for a person's mind, opinions, behavior. Assurances that no matter what, nothing can ever change your mind. A diligent effort to instill love and trust and faith. You. Can. Trust. Me.  Repeated promises of honesty. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

False promises and lies: I'm happy. I want you here. I love you. I want to be with you. We can be great together. But at some point, it shifts and changes. In the knothole one hopes to detect the shift. But it's dark and confusing in there, and less possible to know the truth when you are in pain than it is when living a false life that made you happy.

Hurtful words that are double-edged with pain and despair: Words that leave lasting scars with their reminders while deep inside the knothole that you weren't enough, and at the same time, you were just too much.  That the relationship was unwanted at some point, that he just didn't love you enough to want it, to talk, to try, to keep it alive. Because he finally told you he just didn't love you enough, and that thought is always there, stabbing and cutting and slicing.

Love lost: Love saved for a lifetime - a complete giving that was stored up for decades, waiting for the right person. Love let loose to be complete and total, because someone kind and funny, who always said the right thing and was seemingly different than all those that came before, showed you a soft place to land on a bed of  promises, honesty, love, faith, hope, trust, and forever. Love shattered against the outer bark of an ancient tree  that leads to a knothole from which it feels impossible to escape, with only one path out. A path through which no light enters because the darkness is in you, a darkness that swallows whatever light enters the knothole.

For this journey there is no flashlight, no ray of sunshine, no beam of hope.  Just the act of moving through, darkly.











Sunday, October 19, 2014

The beauty of Anais Nin

“The obstacle became his alibi for weakness.” 
― Anaïs Nin

“Coming near him like a ballet dancer she took a leap towards him, and he, frightened by her vehemence, and fearing that she would crash against him, instinctively became absolutely rigid, and she felt herself embracing a statue.” 
― Anaïs Nin


“The man who was once starved may revenge himself upon the world not by stealing just once, or by stealing only what he needs, but by taking from the world an endless toll in payment of something irreplaceable, which is the lost faith.” 
― Anaïs Nin


“We do not escape into philosophy, psychology, and art--we go there to restore our shattered selves into whole ones.” 
― Anaïs NinIn Favor of the Sensitive Man and Other Essays


“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.” 
― Anaïs Nin


“I hate men who are afraid of women's strength.” 
― Anaïs NinHenry and June: From "A Journal of Love"--The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin