Thursday, July 26, 2012

A Wisp of Progress

People often tell me "how far I've come".  And I look behind me and I look ahead, and I say, "Really?"  At work I hear it often. "You are not the same scared rabbit that came in here. " Gee thanks. I think.

I am still scared. And I have a long, long way to go. Mostly for practical purposes. Like earning enough to make a little nest for myself and my daughter, and figuring out a way to do it.

I am learning to believe that this will all be revealed to me. And this does not mean in a majestic moment where the clouds part and the answers are hanging there, glistening. It is not an idle revelation, but one that comes from keeping my eyes open, my hands working and my heart receptive.

So how far have I come, really? I still break out into a true, heart-pounding sweat every time I have to open an email from the ex or his lawyer. Is this being a scared rabbit, or just being a real human not yet immune to betrayal? If it didn't bother me, maybe that would be true cause for worry, and not progress at all, but a loss of my own sensitivity. Still, this sure doesn't look or feel like progress.

And I still weep, often, over not having a nest of my own, no kitchen to make tea for my flock when they are sick or weary. But I will find other ways to nurture. It is what I do best. I carry it inside and to know that I still have the strength and desire to use it, is something to be proud of. But progress? Eh, not so much; still the same in that regard.

But this morning, as I lit my incense, I said a prayer, as always for peace for my family, and the rest of the world. For three and a half years no matter how hard I tried, I knew that this meant, the rest of the world, except he and she.  But today, when I blew out the match and whispered the words, " I light this incense with a prayer for peace for my family and everyone else" - I knew that I meant them too. What a revelation. For me to wish them peace and to really mean it - is progress immeasurable. 

Monday, July 23, 2012

Sunday, July 22, 2012

What I Will Never Say to the Other Woman

You slept with my husband
under family photos,
rested on sheets
that held
my dreams,
laughed into glasses -
fogging rims
that were never meant
for your lips.

Moving into my house,
I bet you did not know
that those clay fish
small, smaller, smallest.
were named for each
one of my girls
or that the pink
metal bucket
on the outside wall
is filled with shells
and driftwood biscuits
handed to me
one find at a time,
by hands
that I love.

Sometimes I wonder how
you can you allow
your feet
to touch the butterfly rug,
the one I hauled home
one year
for $53.99. 

Isn’t it  odd,
that I know
the history of
your rug but you
don’t have a clue?

But I guess 
this does not
bother you much
You did, after all,
plant yourself
in a nest
I lined

Does it echo still,
I wonder?
With hushed voices -
my girls
into warm summer nights
over boys
they saw
on the boardwalk?

Do you ever try
to wipe away
my fingerprints
that linger
on each handle,
counter top, and wall.
Do you try  to
paint over 
my handiwork
only to have it 
bleed through?

You should learn that
some things
are indelible,

My advice to you is to
go to the beach. 
Bury your face in
romance novels
and bask
in your triumphs
under a sun
that you can
never own.
Now, I will tell
you something
that might disappoint you 
You did not hurt me
by taking away
what once was mine
He has that honor 
all to himself

You  could never
be that significant
to me

You hurt me only
as humanity
in general
is apt to do,
by failing 
to do the right thing.

But now, I am
all the lighter for it
and in claiming
my old prize,
you already have
what you deserve