reflections on empowerment – daily moments Dec 7/19

A story keeps sneaking to the forefront of her consciousness. For 2 hours he talked about his plan that could be accessible anytime he wanted.   The scary thing about it was that he could make it look like an accident and no one would ever be the wiser. Writing about it today actually appeases her compared to last week. His plan scared her for days, lingering in the back of her mind but now she sees it more as his survival…empowering him.  He now has a choice, whether he executes it or not, and that, may be something he never had growing up…a choice.

Some young adults may finally have a chance to feel what it is like to be free from the clutches of their oppressor(s) and it might be too much to handle on their own…too much to process, let alone, heal. They may feel bombarded with too many  nightmares they have lived growing up.

And that is the part of her job that she loves…being there at a moment if and when the may feel ready to reach out and try and make some sense of their nightmares. Sifting through the memories and challenges together. She often feels like a silent sounding board but with a slight difference. “Kindness is language the deaf can hear and the blind can see.” Mark Twain

Maybe reaching adulthood actually means taking back what was rightfully theirs.

light finally shines
mysteries start to unravel
taking back the night

© tournesol ‘2019/12/07

do you remember when…(free verse – anything goes) Daily reflections – Nov 25 2019

 

Do you remember when?

 

do you remember when I fell?

i do…

do you remember there was so much blood?

i do…

do you remember when the police came?

I do…

do you remember how mad you were at ME?

i do…

do you remember when you lied to the police?

i do…

do you remember when the ambulance would not let you come with me?

i do… and I sighed with relief

do you remember when the doctors pushed you away?

i do…

do you remember when the security guard took you outside?

i don’t, because that’s when I lost touch with reality…

they say I went into a semi-coma.

it felt odd and if there is such a thing as heaven, I bet this is what it must feel like.

my head no longer hurt, my arms were all healed, my back felt smooth and all the bumps and marks disappeared. my legs were smooth and pretty and I felt like I was floating. my hair was thick and fluffy. It was a miracle that all the bald spots had filled out. i truly must have been in heaven.

suddenly I felt something licking my face. omg, Jamie, my Irish terrier was alive!! he was so excited to see me and me too!! it tickled me when he licked my nose that i could not stop giggling. it felt so weird to laugh but a good weird. oh, Jamie, i missed him so much. do you remember when he would bark at you to protect me. you really did not like that and then one day, he was no longer here. you said he got run over by a car. do you remember telling me that?

i could hear someone far away calling my name. there was a lot of beeping sounds and the voices came closer and closer.

and then I hurt again…

why does living hurt so much?

 

do you remember when I got out of the hospital on crutches?

i do…

do you remember the red brick house where I went to live?

i do…

the lady, there had a gentle voice and soft bulky arms she started to wrap around me. but I backed away thinking she wanted to hurt me and then her warm smile told me otherwise. it is odd how the body can speak too. every movement of her body spelled kindness and love.

do you remember that red brick house?

oh that’s right, you were not allowed near that house…

and that’s when life started to hurt a little less every day…

© Cheryl-Lynn ‘19/11/25

 

Reflections on what was and what could be…

mid-season travels ~ Troiku

Image may contain: tree, sky, bird, plant, outdoor and nature

squirrels scurry
birds halfway to southern plains
wish I were a bird

squirrels scurry
stopping to munch
and tease indoor cats

birds halfway to southern plains
balmy weather welcomes
feathered friends

wish I were a bird
soaring over lakes and meadows
poop on pedophiles

© Tournesol 2019/11/09

Image may contain: cat and outdoor

 

First snowfall – Daily Moments – Troibun

A disturbing nudge on her shoulder kicks her out of her sleep. Her longtime friend and foe is ever consistent. It’s November, and dawn has not yet shown its face. Her cold dark room reminds her of death. It is after all, the month of death. She hears a neighbour roll over in bed. The springs are probably as old as his grandfather but hardly a nuisance to hear. In fact, it’s comforting to hear the expected. There is life upstairs.

She pulls the duvet over her head and whispers her morning mantra, “Please help me be a better person and make this day slightly different…Amen.” Shuffling to the washroom, she peaks in the room at the end of the hall. Squinting, she sees her black feline sleeping soundly by the windowsill.

In the kitchen she starts the coffee. She grinds the coffee beans at night to ensure quiet in the morning. Pulling the curtain in the living room, she sees dark purple shades painted across the sky. What a gift to see this performance offering hope for a new day…yet, it’s all a lie, really. Nothing changes.
Tiptoeing to the washroom, she closes the door runs her morning bath while the coffee maker does its magic. Hot water oils her joints…sort of, at least to function, maybe enough to walk to the bus stop today. Lowering her body so her shoulders are covered in the hot steaming water, she lets out a soft groan exhaling the bad.

The last gasps of the coffee wizard announce the end of her bath.
Sitting in her mother’s old rocker, she sips her first taste of happiness leaning on two ice packs. The aroma fills the air. The ice slowly numbs the pain on her neck and lower back; the rising sun puts a smile on her parched lips. Who knows? Maybe today will be different.

For decades, she’s always told herself that pain is her friend. If she feels aches, it means she’s alive rather than paralysed and unfeeling. She has the energy to work, to love, the passion to care despite the lulls in the day or night, she still lives and feels.

Accepting her limits is the secret. Walking too far or housecleaning in one shot will force her into inaction for a day or two. On days she cannot function, she reads, writes, edits photos or binges on Netflix…always pleasures to take her mind off physical discomforts…the nagging, accusing poking of her stalker or long-time partner?

dawn squints
billowy shadows linger
first snowfall

dawn squints
cringing at intruders
morning strain

billowy shadows linger
shift in autumn’s speed
chasing winter

first snowfall
brightening muddy paths
cooling giddy tongues

(c) Tournesol 19/11/07

A haibun and a Dear Emma journal…just thinking on paper

 

It’s driving her bonkers visiting so many condos. She is working still but this new place should be affordable when she no longer works and accessible to basic needs. Public transportation must be achievable so she can still get around at all hours of the day and evening. She loves the city for the culture, education and so many interesting events. She loves to read and if her new location does not provide what she needs in books, she wants to be able to hop on a bus and go to her Alma mater, having access to it’s library.

visiting
searching
a place to call home

visiting
private homes
of strangers

searching
impossible dreams
peace of mine

a place to call home
yet, fearing isolation
single … not alone

(c) Tournesol ’19/10/30

Yesterday she heard a radio broadcast of a man who retired. He talked about how it was a terrible shock to him. She has been planning to write more and teach English part time on line or in person when she retires. She planned on volunteering doing group work like she did a few years ago but somehow she did not feel “at home” in community outreach programmes like she did in Toronto. Why was that? Was she tired of volunteering in the mental health world where she has worked for almost 4 decades, volunteering and working? Well, that would make sense. Even if she offered workshops, she knows she would still be drawn into their narratives that pull at the heartstrings.

And, to hear this man voice his misery with retirement, jolted her. She thought about the time when it will be an END…rather than her usually way of thinking that it will be a new beginning. Even if she got certified to teach last fall, she never really grasped the idea of cutting ties to workforce. She remembers not working for one year when the children were little and she found work to do from home to keep her sanity. Somehow, being productive AND connected to people was a need and not just a desire.

How did she get here? She has always talked about volunteering and working part time here and there to fill her time. She has relished the idea of going to a library or coffee shop with her laptop and writing to her heart’s content. And yet when it is a choice and something in the future, it looks like a dream come true. When it gets closer, it feels like a death sentence. Oh my, why is she seeing her future so bleak? Is it that time of year?

November approaching is like opening your heart and home to death. The only good thing about this month was her first child was born on the 7th. She feels herself slipping into the darkness of despair and numbness. Knowing it is going to happen; understanding the why’s and how’s makes it even more frustrating because that mood just takes control over her. It snickers and sometimes bellows at her weakness. It weighs on her like a heavy duvet with iron fists keeping her under, and all she can do is concentrate on breathing…waiting for a break in that dark sky. Until then, she will go through the motions…work three days a week; listening to the darkest stories from callers, searching for hope. She sometimes, feels like a hypocrite not being able to take her own advice. She can hear them, feel them, open her heart to them and engage them and help them get to a safer and lighter place even if it’s just for a night, one more day, one more week. If only she could have someone like that to do the same for her.

It is probably one of the toughest parts of being in the service profession. Police officers, first responders, nurses, physiotherapists, massage therapists, doctors, teachers and social service workers and any other outreach career, have the same risks of slipping. Some take comfort with their family, friends and balancing self-care. Others drink too much or eat too much. The things they see or hear are not things you can share and vent with a friend.

In Toronto she had a great therapist (doctor/masters in social work) covered by healthcare. She was even her doctor and her support was helpful and refreshing. Even her doctor would pick her brain on ideas for clients she had who were parents.

She doesn’t feel it really matters where you live. It is how she feels inside…the heart of any home is the soul of the person living there. The living space can be spotless or cluttered, shiny or dreary, quiet or noisy, it all depends on what is going on inside that person. However, lots of windows make a huge difference…just being able to look at the sky; looking out and also seeing life around her like pedestrians, cars, squirrels and chipmunks. Seeing life is vital…it is a connection to the living and she can relate more and more to older people she worked with years ago. She is minutes away from any of these persons now.

She so admired their energy and persistence to keep moving and staying involved with social events. She wonders what their secret was when that heavy duvet weighed them in the morning or when it hurt to move a muscle or hurt even more to open their eyes. She did get advice from her 90 yr old aunt one time. Roll out of bed, shuffle to the bath and run a nice hot bath to oil the joints; then you can move!
She does this on most mornings now.

Maybe she could learn from more retired people. Experience is worth its weight in gold…now she is feeling a bit more hopeful. Thanks, Emma, for listening.

Daily moments Oct 30 2019, clr

 

authentic and compassion (troiku) Daily Moments 8-10-2019

grey looms within
searching for the sun
chasing blue rays

grey looms within
cannot seem to stop
raindrops tasting salt

searching for the sun
shining in the sky
yet, so faraway

chasing blue rays
just, what doctors order
“should” produce a smile


teardrops fall
like leaky faucets – yet,
no reason at all

teardrops fall
salt blending with sweetness
making all things real

like leaky faucets – yet,
overflows may be triggered
over-stretched soul

no reason at all
some folks are just born
caring and real

© Tournesol ‘19/10/08

Daily Moments October 8/2019   authentic and compassionate Troiku