the well so deep, yesterday
not so much today
to fill the pit beneath me
light is like words
encouraging yet thin
but your hand
it breaks the stone
it clears the path
these wells that form
deep under foot
bored out by our own hands
when standing still too long
when night destroys the day
where life soon cools
and slowly turns to stone
alone in the well
it fills with atrophy and shame
the slightest push
the faintest shove
the stone it cannot form
we fill it in again
and hope momentum
carves a path instead
to my love
I have spent my life changing. Trying to change. Trying to improve myself. Working towards a better me. There was a time in my life I did not care. That is no longer me. I admit I am far from perfect. I procrastinate like a pro. I fall back into self destructive patterns as fast as the wind changes direction. I cuss like a sailor. The list goes on. Basically I am my own worst enemy. My fear to live a life better than I am now is fueled by self doubt. Yeah me. I am not the pinnacle of self-confidence I pretend to be. Funny how several people have noted how confident I am upon meeting the for the first time.
I am an INCREDIBLE actress. When it suits me.
But oh how I fall. I have been working for months now with a therapist and self evaluation to try and get past these last seemingly insurmountable hurdles. The irony being all that I have changed about who I am and my life over the last 3 years. You can change or fix just about anything with surgery these days. You can change your entire wardrobe. You can change careers. You can change your hair color, cut and style. You can change jobs and latitudes. You can change your mood with a little help from a friend. And yes you can even change your sex apparently. We are a world fast becoming a planet of designer humans.
But there are two things you cannot change. Your past and your mind. I hear the sound of squealing breaks of disagreement on that last one. I say that out of experience really. So hear me out. We can change the way we feel about a great many things. Education and enlightenment play a big role there. We can OVERCOME, contain or control a great many things in our heads. Just having an open mind and a willingness to change are pivotal in ones ability to modify your thoughts and feelings.
I am struggling. Struggling to change that last bit of me I hate so much. I am afraid to live and free myself of all those fears that hold me back year after year. Those fears that pull me back in to self destructive patterns. The fear that keeps me from living all the dreams I carry with me to protect me from the darkest places of my mind. I feel like a small child that just wants someone to hold my hand. Just long enough to take me across that bridge of fear.
But there is no hand. And all the confidence I can muster seems short lived. I am afraid of people. I meet people and never see or hear from them again or look them in the eyes and feel I am not liked for some reason. Am I too tall, too ugly, too pretty, too weird? I don’t feel like I fit in anywhere. This I have felt all my life. I still feel this way.
See all that self defeating stuff. It leads to being lonely. It leads to self doubt. It is that thing I have never been able to change about my mind. The part of my mind I cannot change despite my best efforts. And I don’t know why or how.
If only I could get past the fears in my mind that keep me from truly being the person I am in my own dreams.
Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!
This is the sailing vessel Evening Song
Evening Song, Evening Song, Evening Song
This is the US Coast Guard
What is the nature of your distress?
Evening Song, Evening Song, Evening Song…
The harsh din of static fills the airwaves
Rush to service boats and helicopters launch
Always on standby
The job they love
The job they hate
A night rescue filled with peril
Neptune’s rage unleashed
An ocean of wind and blowing foam
Torn mountainous peaks of writhing waters
Black rain coating a blackened sky
Alone in a torrent
Lost at sea
Spotlights strain to pierce the night
Eyes struggle losing focus
Radars piercing the angry gale
Choppers on scene
Two in the air
A ship and three boats soon arrive to a watery grave
Waiting, looking, hoping
A long face peers out from the helm
20 hours maybe more
A search for life
A search for clues
No sign of the ill-fated
No word from the crew
The quieting storm reveals no clues
A search called off
Day three in the air
All vessels to port
Relatives’ blank stares
Alone on the beach
Sadly she stands
Daughter of the captain
Child of the sea
Her parents taken no goodbyes only tears
A voyage of discovery
A passage among frineds
To visit the islands and be with loved ones again
Sailing the ocean a call to the seas
Ended one night with the last Evening Song
I cast my heart into the open
Carried on the waters of trust
Blown by the winds of your soul
A chance at something taken
The fear of being in the open and exposed overcome
Desire the star that guides me leads to you
That it does not matter swells and storms
Tides of thoughts are the gravity of you
Brightest star and heavenly body
Nothing of the past nor demons on the seas shall change my course
Adventures together shall I walk land again
True North my compass set for you
I set my mind sails close hauled
A course of purpose beating to windward
The harbor of you a destiny of hope
Landing safely in your arms
A prize greater than any race won
Fair winds my vessel sails the oceans for you
Forever holding a place of undashed hopes
tight and close to my heart
Forever seeking to fulfill the spark’s destiny
to burn even brighter
Forever dreaming of a passion so strong
the world around weeps in joy
Forever standing firm against the hate and indignity others cast indiscriminately
as they try rip away their own pain of not being
Forever placing on a pedestal
that which stands for love and acceptance
Forever being the person I have always been
deep within my soul
Forever loving life
as precious moments of gifted time
Forever shedding the past ills and demons
making way for all that is good and right in the world
Forever encouraging those around
that falter on their way
only reaching out to find a helping hand
Forever creating the sacred spaces in my thoughts
that keep the dreams alive
Forever making new the old and burdened memories
into hope that builds a future
Forever stopping to smell the roses
remembering every day, every second and every life around me
is a gift to be cherished
Forever sharing the intimate moments of lucid thought
tangibly real and written in my mind
hoping the words are heard
Hoping the words are enough
to open your mind and warm your heart
How do you draw pain?
What does sorrow look like?
What shape is hurt?
What color is sadness?
How do you erase what cannot be undone?
The greatest powers in the universe cannot hold back tears that need to flow free. Mine had been building for a few weeks. I did not cry long or particularly hard. This time I had my mother their to catch me. So many times I have cried in the last 2 years that I wished mom was there. Today she was because I am home for the first time in many years. Today I cried and All I needed was a catalyst.
The Blue Fairy pried the memories from my mind and the tears soon followed. As I watched the movie AI with mom, I realized I had forgotten about the Blue Fairy. The Blue Fairy was to grant David is sole wish in life; to made into a real boy so that he could return home so his mother would love him always. Towards the end of the movie the key to my tears would soon appear. As David steers the craft too the bottom of the ocean where what seems a blue fair stands silently in the ruins of humanity, he finds her and asks her “Blue Fairy, can you make me a real boy?”
The darkened cell in which a certain memory lay captive, silent and seemingly dormant was released. And David became trapped in a prison forever just out of reach of the Blue Fairy to perpetually pray to her to make him real and to be loved.
I too had my Blue Fairy as a child. Endlessly praying to release me from my own prison and to make me “real” too. For me what seems a lifetime, over 30 years, since then my wish was finally granted. But it was not the Blue Fairy to release me from my struggle to “become real.” David’s wish too was granted in a way after 2000 years. And like me the Blue Fairy was not the one to satisfy his dream.
In the end it is not important how each of our wishes came true. It is only fair to say that they did in our own important way. Not the exact way each of us had hoped and dreamed for so so very long. But in others equally as beautiful.
I am not a robot. I have always been real. Just not as real as I was meant to be, but I am now. I have also known unwavering love from my mother. In the end David did too even as she passed in her sleep as he held her hand. The strange irony of standing in the doorway of my bathroom as the tears came before heading off to bed, my head on my mother’s shoulder, struck me even as I cried and told her briefly of my Blue Fairy.
Endless miles of hot asphalt race only inches beneath her. This journey has become all too familiar as she blankly scans the road ahead. The trips back to her parents home each weekend only followed by the same blank canvas before classes start each Monday.
“How long must I do this?” She whispers to the empty seat beside her.
Cracks and hastily planted repairs in the road counting down the miles. She opens the window to awaken her senses. This drive, this repetition that numbs her mind as she struggles to stay awake at the wheel. Thoughts are her only companion along these mindless stretches as even the radio’s blaring madness too fades into background noise.
She stops along a long isolated corridor. The pine forests frame the roads like deeply carved aqueducts where only metal and concrete flow. It is spring and mediocre patches of wildflowers fight the weeds and weekly industrial mowers for a stand of their own.
A lone whit daisy has impaled itself into the broken edges of the roadside. It’s only companions, indescript plastic wrappers and crumbled infrastructure from a tenuous, fragile barrier. Just enough protection for it to take root.
“How long must I do this?” She whispers again.
Her voice falls along the roadside as she pours the last bit of melted ice and moisture from a giant convince store fountain drink around this hopeful yet doomed spark of life. Her gaze surveys the local patches of daisies bunched together living freely and open just outside the shadows of their lanky pine guardians.
Her eyes return to her lone companion at the edge of oblivion wondering how such a beautiful thing could survive and blossom outside of its siblings’ safe haven of meadow-like grasses, weeds and illegible “do not mow” signs. She thinks to herself as if ready to ask the daisy out loud.
“What are you doing here?”
The silence in her mind is only broken by the silence of no answer. Her gaze blurs as she raises her head to the blue on blue sky. Her focus turns to nothing of consequence as she ponders the bravery and utter determination of this lone flower. Her only thought as she turns slowly to return to her drive are of her own life.
“I wish I was a flower.”
She starts the car and quickly disappears into the distance.