goodbyes

 why are some goodbyes more difficult than others? most are thoughtless and don't involve the heart or a second thought. then there are the sharp ones that are meant to convey anger, hurt, or bitterness. there are goodbyes that take effort to say because it will be a while before seeing someone again. and then there are the ones with so much weight on them, the mouth struggles to move to get the word out because saying it means accepting the inevitable. 

how does one word hold so much to it? two sylables. seven letters assigned to express a message that ends any previous correspondence. possibly till next time. till next year. or... till never again. 

it seems to me that the significance of the word and the weight behind it, depends on a few things. the distance of time, the depth the emotion in relation to the connection, and the length of time of the departure. 

yet, we decide these variables in the blink of an eye without ever really putting our mind to the math involved. the heart is the one that decides the equation. 

in the midst of the mist

flying amongst the clouds
looking at shrouds below
a refraction of light
in the midst of the mist.
one concentrated point
one. in the spans of plumes.
a scintillating touch
bring forth inner musings.

crumpled paper

i lost another day.

in honesty i don't think it can be considered a loss when i am throwing them away.

i throw days away like others crumple papers after scribbling or writing on them.

here's the thing, i am not writing or scribbling, or even doodling on these pages of days of life. i'm tossing perfectly empty pages away.

why is it that i'm not utelizing my time well? it's waisted on staring at a screen with pictures and others thought and ideas. but what about mine? what about this gift of life that i am waisting? i can't continue to throw away each day of my life. ...and yet, fear says i can.

constant motion

i feel envious of the creek behind our home. the water is in constant motion. ever moving forward. never staying idle. how would it be to move forward and never have to question where you are going or dwell on where you've been? rivers and creeks take things on for a while, a twig here, a leaf there, but it ends up depositting these things on the side shore and continues on ever pursuing its travels. its journey forward.

yes. i am envious of the movement of the water, for i feel stuck. i feel i've been idle too long. perhaps i am that desposited twig stuck in some reeds or the shore. not knowing how to continue on the journey. would it be better to be the leaf and not really moving, but allowing the flow perpetual motion to carry me adrift? carrying on without purpose.

idaho, i hate you

i need somewhere to write and this place is as good as any. i feel safe here because no one really looks here for my words and yet they are still open for anyone to see. see; that way i'm not hiding or burying my feelings, my thoughts, my choices, or my words, but they are slightly hidden. a treasure for those who might wander this way or those who chose to remember they have a map.

i don't really know what to say. i just know that i need to write. i need to express how unhappy i am and how that makes me feel empty of gratitude. how after i realize how ungrateful i am because of my misery, then comes the guilt. the shame. i become ashamed of not feeling grateful for all the good i have in my life and not being content. how ugly is that? ugly enough to be ashamed. then comes the anger. anger and disgust for my showing a weakness. disgust for being human and conforming to what man is made of. for not rising above. how ugly! how ugly.

the last two days i have been unhappy. i miss utah. i am overwhelmed at not having family near. i hate that brandon and i can't be everything and do everything for our children. i hate it. i get angry at idaho like it has personally offended me by existing. like it swooped my family and me up into the air and held us captive to spend the rest of our days here in this remote town. frustration isn't a strong enough word. overwhelmed doesn't begin to hold the feelings that i have. i know i would find things to be unhappy about in utah if we lived there. i know things wouldn't be different but it doesn't keep me from blaming the one thing i can that won't take offense.

idaho. you took my mother away from me. you took my time with her. you took my easy life where i had help running my small tribe members to and fro. you took me out of my comfort zone. you took away my security. you took my mountains! idaho, i'm angry at you and i think i might despise you. you forced me to see things from a different view. you made me see that slowing down is good. you forced me to find a new way of learning for the little ones. you pushed me to find beauty in vast amounts of fields and open land. you forced a more laid back attitude upon me. and i hate that i don’t hate it as much as i want to. 

this house.

have you ever felt so sick about something that you wanted to vomit? that's about where i am at right now. i have gone through this cycle many times throughout the past few months as the house we have been building has come closer to being finished.

this house.
it's beautiful.
it's big.
it's a dream house.

...it's excess. and when i step back and look around, i feel sick.

how did i win the lottery? was there something i did to deserve this? why am i so blessed as to have even the opportunity to have a home this beautiful? it's not fair and i feel ashamed sometimes. i wallow in shame from time to time because i feel guilty for taking advantage of what the world, the universe, and God has given me.

you may say it's okay. you may say i'm lucky. you may say it's in my cards, my own test, my fate.

i say... i made my bed so now i must sleep in it.

this house.
it's beautiful.
it's big.
it's a dream house.
it's my scarlet letter.

...for every time someone i love walks into it, i feel they see my sin written within the walls and on my chest. i feel their envy and it makes my heart ill. for i didn't make my home the way i did for anyone else but me. i indulged and it hurts other people and i hate myself.

i chose to make this house my refuge and it came out as an overindulgent choice of excess but like all choices, it comes with a price. not the actual cost of the home, although that makes me ill as well... it eats at my heart and gnaws at my leg, gnashing words of inadequate furniture within it's walls, or insufficient decor. will it ever be enough? i walk in a room and i first see the beauty, then i see the long list of things to be done to make it what my mind sees it to be and i am unhappy. unsatisfied. unfulfilled.

...and the guilt starts again.

this house.
it's beautiful.
it's big.
it's a dream house.
and it's my guilty conscience.

...so if you happen to walk into my home. my beautiful home. and see me smiling, gracefully trying to take your compliments, please know that i truly am berating myself inside. for i can't take the tile or the other things back to make it a more humble home. -and i don't know that my ego would've allowed me to.

empty space

lonely heart
empty space.
how to fill
not replace.
memories?
sorrow?
trinkets?
tomorrow?

no.

lonely heart
empty space.
look for joy
sun to chase.

peace.

love.

service.

hugs.

yes.

lonely heart

empty space.

temporary pain

eternal place.

search.

follow.

remember.

no longer hollow.