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Posts Tagged ‘loss’

Another oldie

Show me the meaning of being lonely.

Susan x

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#Betrayal

image from http://www.deviantart.com                          Howling for the soul sister to pass

Betrayal

The time drifted by slowly

There was nothing left

No way to measure the passage of time

Nothing but the slow drip, drip, drip

She let her head roll back

Resting lightly against the window frame

Outside she could see the moon

A blood moon, portent of bad tidings

The trees outside wailed their mournful sounds

And somewhere a wolf howled loudly

Joined quickly by the rest of the pack

Strange, but she had seen no wolves here

Not since she came so long ago

But it wasn’t that long surely

No, it only felt that way

But fitting somehow that they came now

Almost as if they could hear her coming

Drip, drip, drip -The only sound inside

The howling of the wolves outside

And an eerie feeling creeping over all

She was starting to feel cold

The mist curled from her open mouth

She should have brought a blanket

Made things much easier in the end

The cold climbed upwards

Through her arms and legs

Up from the cold floor, cold as the grave

Drip, drip, drip, the continuing sound

Fainter now the wolves were drawing nearer

Their howling more frenetic than ever

The moon climbed higher so she raised her head

Strange how heavy her head now felt

Drip, drip, drip, a cold wetness intruded on her reverie

The howling wolves must have been outside the window

Their howls so loud in her head now

As the icy cold reached her heart

She gave one slow sigh

The light dimming in her eyes

She could no longer see the moon

No longer hear the slowing drip, drip, drip

The only sound

The howling of the wolves

The dripping stopped,

The moon still rose

The wolves howled once more

A cry of pain and anguish

For a soul lost.

Alone in death

As she had been in life

Alone.

#Betrayal

image from http://www.smscs.com The pack gathers to welcome one home

Blessings  Susan x

© Susan Jamieson 2014

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“The past is the beginning of the beginning and all that is and has been is but the twilight of the dawn.”     H. G. Wells

Have you ever wondered why the day follows night

Seen the sunrise and wondered if its alright

Have you ever wondered why the person you waited for all your life

Turns out to be the one who can hurt you more than ever in your life

If the heart is made for love why does it need to be broken

For all the wise words spoken have said that love is not a token

Meant to be given in jest

Then thrown away with the rest.

Is this pain felt inside meant to let you know you’re alive

I’m waiting for the lesson I should learn

From this time spent in pain

Yet none ever seems to come

Does this mean I have to go through this again

My heart handed out on a platter

Filled with love, hope and laughter

Not to be used like fodder and shattered

Like a tool to be used of no value and cast aside

Leaving me bereft and without anything but pride.

Or is that simply an illusion

Something more to add to the confusion

Should I wish for a heart of stone

Never more to feel so cold and alone

It’s the numbness I now crave

In the darkness of the grave.

For I want no more of this pain

Useless wasted time flushed down the drain

Tears hidden inside flooding through me like rain.

“She’d cried over a broken heart before. She knew what that felt like, and it didn’t feel like this. Her heart felt not so much broken as just … empty. It felt like she was an outline empty in the middle. The outline cried senselessly for the absent middle. The past cried for the present that was nothing.”   Ann Brashares, Sisterhood Everlasting

The human  heart is made to love, has an infinite capacity to love. That’s what I’ve read so many times and heard from so many people. It seems that, if all the wise people I’ve read and heard from are correct, that it’s almost a given that the heart is meant to be broken and mended again and again. Yet I have to ask myself, to what purpose?  Is there some unknown quality granted to a heart which feels torn asunder over and over again that I am somehow missing? Really, it’s a serious conundrum. What possible purpose could be served by having to go through so much agony over and over again?

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sunrise
Whatever you do or dream you can do – begin it. Boldness has genius and power and magic in it.”
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe


Until the middle of November we are in a time of working through old hurts, pain from the past, especially related to family issues, and I haven’t been immune to this process.  In case anyone is wondering how I know, I’ve felt mired in the past, immersed in sadness and making life unpleasant for my husband.

I’m presuming the later since he wouldn’t admit it. His response to my many apologies for my miserable attitude was simply, “I love you, I’m your husband and I want to be here for you”. Pretty cool, huh. I know I’m one very loved and lucky woman.
For myself it’s felt pretty uncomfortable.  I don’t know if I’ve managed to clear all the old hurts and sadness but I’ve certainly made a huge start.  Yesterday I started writing. It was going to be a small blog, I wasn’t in the right head space, or so I thought, to write anything larger.  Then my fingers started to run across the keyboard and my mind was in neutral.  I wasn’t thinking about what I was writing about. It felt as though it was being dredged from somewhere deep inside, a place which was full of pain and anguish and carefully hidden away from the world. My first taste of automatic writing.

ghost blog writer
image courtesy of  sem-group.net

I’m not really a sharer when it comes to those deep personal issues. Experience had taught me it wasn’t a good idea.  For most of my adult life I’ve very carefully crafted a vault, deep and wide, secured by unbreakable walls and locked in so many different ways without keys that I’d supposed no-one would be able to get in there and see what I was hiding there. Every hurt, every pain and disappointment, and every loss had been shoved, squished and poked in there and the lid battened down tight. I didn’t want to go there or look into that abyss so why would anyone else?

floating in the abyss
image courtesy of  ivonnemontijo.wordpress.com

However, for the past week or more I’ve floated in that self-same abyss during my sleepless nights and during my unwatched waking moments.   I’ve avoided answering the question of “what’s bothering you?” and tried to pretend all was well.  It appears my Higher Self had other ideas in mind. So I began  my blog and my fingers did the walking and talking.  When I had finished I knew, on some deep visceral level that it was time to let it out. It didn’t matter if anyone else read it, (except my husband),  but it was a huge release for me.

This morning I woke up in agony. Quite laughable really, but all it meant was the old pain was working its way out too. So much pain carried for so long, is it any wonder it felt so bad.  The cups of tea, lashings of hugs and love and I knew it was time to do this. I’ve really made a start to clear all that old and buried pain and agony out. I don’t need to hold onto it any longer. I’m in a safe place now and I have someone I trust to lean on and love me and let this horror loose and clear it to “the light”.

I feel lighter than I have for many years. Thank you Ray for loving me and providing a safe haven for me to “let go” and thank you Nicole Cody, for giving me so many tools and the courage to let the past go.  (The Full Moon Releasing and Becoming Ceremonies have been an unbelievable ‘key’).  Tomorrow is a brighter day, I know there are many more ‘releasings’ to happen but I know that I can do it now.  THAT, is a truly awesome feeling.

have a beautiful day
image courtesy of  mycommentspace.com

“If you paint in your mind a picture of bright and happy expectations, you put yourself into a condition conducive to your goal.
Norman Vincent Peale

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Dying Young

“Death is a tragedy … but only for the living. We who have died go on to other things.”
– Charles de Lint, Into the Green

walking alone

from missilhouette.wordpress.com

It’s never easy getting that awful news.  The news that someone you knew for such a long time has met an untimely end.

It’s been a difficult couple of days, especially for my daughter.  A friend whom she met in preschool passed away two days ago.  She was just 28 years old and suffered a pulmonary embolism! What is the world coming to when someone so young, when the rest of their lives should be before them, tragically dies like this? Is there ever a ‘good’ time or a ‘right’ time. Young or old it strikes at the heart, but the younger they are it seems more ‘unfair’.

The most difficult part is that there is no rhyme or reason to death. We have no control over it. If we are fortunate we can hold it at bay for a time, but eventually it gathers us all to it’s unwelcome embrace.  It is something we cannot bargain with, despite the many tales of bargaining with Death.

meet joe black
from movieindex.com

So we must all try to find some way of understanding and finding acceptance for a life cut short.  It is not in the early days when you can say that they had led a wonderful life, did this or that, traveled here or there. In those early days, late at night, we are all left wondering at the reasons for why these things happen, and look at our own mortality in the face.

All one can really say is that they were wonderful and will be missed.

young happy girl

“We cannot banish dangers, but we can banish fears.  We must not demean life by standing in awe of death.”  ~David Sarnoff

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