Tag Archives for Poetry

New Glasses And Improved Insight

Literally seeing more clearly is a wonderful thing. I recently went to have my long overdue eye examination. I should have gone for my check-up around the time I became ill almost three years ago, but each time I scheduled an appointment I had to cancel it because my pain was too intense for me to push through it to travel to the appointment. I was forced to go now because the changes in my vision couldn’t be ignored any longer and my old glasses finally stopped helping me see things better. I started developing a pronounced vertical line between my eyebrows from squinting my eyes to see just about everything. It didn’t help that I had to hold things up close to my face for me to read or see details.

When I picked up my new glasses a few weeks ago, the improvement in my eyesight amazed me. Even in dim lighting, I can read small print from a significant distance away, which means it might be less difficult for me to get through reading a book now, instead of only reading articles online with a high level of zoom. Drawing and colouring aren’t as frustrating either because I’m having an easier time connecting lines with the fine points of the pens and pencils I’m using as I build my creative skills. I’m seeing details in things I had completely forgotten existed. Although, I’m not sure I need to see all my new grey hairs or every pore in my face. An added bonus is that the line between my eyebrows is fading because I no longer have to squint while holding things against the tip of my nose to figure out what’s in front of me.

New Glasses & Improved Insight

I also connected – however loosely – what I’ve decided to describe as a “metaphysical vision improvement” to getting new glasses because I’m seeing some things from my past more clearly. Having as much time on my hands, as I do these days, makes it difficult not to spend some of that time combing through past events and painful memories. Even though the moments are long gone and I know I can’t change them, it’s hard not to replay them. A few weeks ago, I spoke with a cousin about our past romantic entanglements and some of the lessons we’ve each learned from our respective relationships and breakups. After that conversation, I couldn’t stop thinking about one situation that years ago caused me a lot of unhappiness. I turned it over in my mind so many times that if it had been a living, breathing thing it would have developed a severe case of motion sickness.

I was fortunate enough to be able to reach out to someone who, after all these years, was able to give some helpful insight. What she told me confirmed that as much as I was hurt by what happened, it was the best thing for me. In that past relationship, I didn’t have the freedom to express my true self and I was forced to lie to people who love me to hold on to someone who could never fulfill my needs and made me doubt myself and feel insecure. The conversation we had helped me to let go of any lingering doubts and reminded me how easy it is to allow emotions and thoughts to suck us into a downward spiral where it’s almost impossible for us to see the truth sitting right in front of our noses.

Freeing up that emotional/psychological space and energy made room for something more enjoyable. The one thing that has been constant during the ups and downs of relationships and illness in my life is poetry, and each poem I write shows me truth I’m not always aware I know.

 

The Frame

 

Gratitude and Creativity: Sometimes I Forget

Sometimes I forget how blessed I am because my body is always feeling pain. However, I was reminded of my blessings yesterday when my cousin brought her three children to see me because I was hurting too much to go to her home to visit for a few days. I was so thrilled to see the children, especially the new baby who I watched come into the world thirteen days ago. The two older children burst into my home with so much life energy when I opened the door that they almost knocked me off my feet. They were so happy to see me it filled my heart. They greeted me with hugs, huge smiles, and the bright sounds of honest childhood laughter that hides nothing, as they asked me in turns to help them unzip jackets and remove shoes.

The new baby was napping in his carrier seat under soft, warm blankets. He was quiet and unmoving; until his mother gave me the go ahead to disturb his peace, and I took him out of his cozy corner of the world. When I picked him up he wiggled in my arms like a worm – he might have gained the misfortune of me using the word ‘worm’ as an endearment toward him for the rest of his life. He finally settled in my arms, almost weightless – he weighs just seven pounds now – and slid back into sleep as I held him against my chest. I had him in my arms or laying in my lap for most of the afternoon, with the only exception being when he woke up in search of his mother’s breast. It was a wonderful feeling.

I occupied the older children with a jumbo box of crayons, paper, and a children’s television channel that made their mother cringe. I’ve never been a parent so I don’t mind a few hours of children’s shows full of mindless rhyming songs and lessons on counting and primary colours. They were also easy to please with snacks that were thankfully lacking in sugar – bowls full of Cheerios™, sliced vegetables, and orange juice. What I couldn’t provide, they filled in with their imaginations. When they went home, my place was loudly quiet and still, but I felt full. I felt happy.

Today, I’m still feeling wisps of that happiness. But as I sat down to write, I realized I haven’t written anything in my art/gratitude journal in a few weeks. Instead of writing a new entry, I decided to flip through the pages of things I wrote about being grateful for in recent months. On the bottom of the page from my second entry back in April, I wrote a poem. That’s what I’m grateful for today. Not that specific poem; I’m grateful that I started writing again. Whether here or in that journal, writing is making my life with chronic pain a little easier to bear and helping me to make room for other things, happy things, in my life.

Still, sometimes I forget. What I’m hoping is that in the future I work at having more days like today where I look for ways to hold on to the joy and happiness that my cousin’s children brought to life in me yesterday.

Line To My Life

 

Gratitude and Creativity: Truth and Thought

It absolutely sucks when you think you’re having a good day and then out of nowhere you start to cry. Since becoming ill, that happens to me more often than I like to admit. Yesterday was one of those days. I was happily moving through my day when the tears started coming. I’m not sure what triggered them, but if I had to guess, I would say it was my pain. When I woke up yesterday I was feeling what I consider good from a pain perspective, but as the day continued, my pain got worse. Usually that wouldn’t make me cry, but yesterday it felt like there was no one I could tell about my feelings. That caused me to feel overwhelming sadness.

Even though my friends and family are always checking in with me to see how I’m doing, I don’t always feel I can tell them about the extent of my moods – or my pain. I tend to save most of the low feelings and troubling thoughts for my therapist, because I sometimes think that it’s easier not to have everyone worried about me all the time. As much as I appreciate it, I don’t find it comforting to have people constantly concerned about me. I don’t like answering the same questions repeatedly and feeling the need to reassure everyone that I’m doing just fine, especially when I’m not. The moment I tell someone about a bad day, whether my pain or my mood is the cause, they go into “what can I do to make it better” mode; when there is nothing they can do to make it better.

A prime example is me bursting into tears and not being able to explain why. If I told anyone about that, the worry would be immediate and I would feel bad about being the reason for that worry. The interesting thing is I know that if things were reversed, I would try to do whatever I could to make things better for someone I cared for.

Thankfully, I was able to express what I was feeling in poetry because of a timely silent share post, from my friend Bert, that I read yesterday morning.

 

Truth and Thought