Swiping at the Firmament

Photo by Ryan Visima

Photo by Ryan Visima

Today was a very, very challenging day at work. I tried to hold tightly to the high from last night’s successful show, but with the collective stress of my office-mates as we banded together to trouble-shoot, it was more than challenging. I want so badly for this to turn out well, because so many people have worked so hard. I’m blowing on the dandelion fluff of prayer right now…

Arthur left tonight, which I’m usually ok with, but this time it feels a bit heavy. Despite a snoring Toulouse, my apartment feels really empty without him. I’m trying to sit with my loneliness, and sadness, and stress. It’s easy to crave a distraction from these things, but I’ve learned the value of being comfortable with these less than stellar feelings. I’m still not great at this, but it gets better each time I feel this way.

I had ambitions of putting my house back together after a whirlwind week, but all I could manage was a sweep of the floor. It still looks like a panty factory blew up. A panty factory full of colourful chickens, and stockings. I will compromise with myself by putting fresh linens on the bed, washing the dishes before I sleep, and quickly cleaning the bathroom in the morning. I’ve also discovered the glory of the wash and fold laundry service around the corner. It sounds decadent, I know, but in a moment of desperation, I filled a large garbage bag with the rubble of Mt. Laundry and hauled it over. It cost $2 more than usual to have the lovely couple who own the joint do it for me. And it was done by the time I got home from work.

Today, a beautiful new friend responded to a Facebook message I sent, telling her that “the sky was falling”. She said, “Good luck catching it.”

I was struck by this.

The idea of the sky falling immediately makes me feel like I should be doing something to hold it up, which in turn feels impossible. Catching pieces of sky seems like a less monumental task; like catching snowflakes, or raindrops. Do what you can. Collect bits and understand that they will melt, or evapourate because the sky is nothing we can control, or contain, or even begin to hold on to. Before you kick in to Henny-Penny overdrive, remember this. Sometimes when the sky falls, its a reminder that we never should have assumed it was going to stay overhead in the first place.

And sometimes, to lift our hearts and remind us that everything is cyclical, we get a rainbow. Or two.

(and all household chores are waiting until the morning. who am i trying to kid?)

All the Poetry I’ve Been Missing

This week has been a struggle. I’ve had just enough energy to survive the work day, and all I care to do is come home and lay down. All of my resources are tapped, and there’s not an ounce of creativity in me. Several lovely people have pointed out that perhaps I need this time where absolutely nothing is going on. I suppose that’s true. I also need a money truck to back up to my patio and unload it’s contents. And I need an all-expense paid, month long vacation in Italy.

And I need someone. Just a little.

I haven’t felt like that in a long time. I’ve wanted people for many of the wrong reasons. I’ve behaved like I need someone there most of the time. I’ve acted like I just can’t make do without someone to flirt with, and what have you. I haven’t really needed someone. It’s possible to continue to get by quite well on my own, and the idea of a summer of absolute freedom is not without its own allure, but I’m starting to wonder exactly what I’m doing.

There are certain things I need to address, and work harder towards resolving before I can really look someone in the eye and say “Yeah. This could work.” This is the major reason why I continue to be a singleton. I’m ok with this, it’s time, but there’s something about being sick, and feeling vulnerable to the point where you miss cuddling your mom that makes you kind of look at the bigger picture.

I haven’t had a lot of single time in my adult life. I’m coming out of two major relationships, back to back, and this time in my life feels like the fairly magical time when I was between high school and college. I felt free, and happy, and mad about my friends, and so very creative. The exception, of course, is this week.

Tell me, how does one make the most of the time they experience without a romantic partner in their life? I have my own formula, but I’m so curious to hear what else is out there. Are we confidant, and happy, and independent and fulfilled, or do we mask our loneliness by projecting these qualities?

Also, I’ve realized I’ve made bad on my promise to write poetry every day for April. In lieu of my own pathetic attempts, here is some poetry by a great master, as curated by some very good people that I know.

For you because I understand:

For you because you are true and noble:

For you because you inspire me:

For you, and our talks and spiced oranges:

For you, because I think you can hear my thoughts:

My current choice:

And one for your sad and beautiful eyes:

And for you because you are so sweet to me: