Another Morning

[JustGeorge]

The light shines through the window; another day is upon us. The pitter patter of the four legged, both indoors and out. Its a summer's day, and there is much to be anticipated... or is there?

While the day itself is innocent, the shield of a past fear years wears heavy on the soul. Times of trauma, pain, heartache and insignificance ring through. I am aware this person waking today isn't the same as the one who woke in the not so recent past. The passing of these times has torn most everything from me on an internal level. The question of "who am I" and "what do I want" is no longer clear cut. Mostly, I just want to turn my mind off, and have a few moment's peace. Even as things around me become more peaceful, the mind cannot break free of the chaos...

What can I do? I mutter a prayer, watch a fly land and take off again. Hang on for the ride.

 

[Revoltingest]

You're so young.
Aging offers great potential for things to settle down, & become easier.

 

[JustGeorge]

You're so young.
Aging offers great potential for things to settle down, & become easier.

I look forward to aging offering this potential.

However, I find it hard to be optimistic.

 

[Revoltingest]

I look forward to aging offering this potential.

However, I find it hard to be optimistic.

I'm here to help....

With Age Comes Happiness: Here's Why

New research is unraveling how and why the elderly “choose happiness”

www.scientificamerican.com

To Be Happier, Start Thinking Like an Old Person

Personal Perspective: Although physical health declines with age, happiness does not. Depression, anxiety, and the loss of cognitive function are not inevitable.

www.psychologytoday.com

 

[Guitar's Cry]

The light shines through the window; another day is upon us. The pitter patter of the four legged, both indoors and out. Its a summer's day, and there is much to be anticipated... or is there?

While the day itself is innocent, the shield of a past fear years wears heavy on the soul. Times of trauma, pain, heartache and insignificance ring through. I am aware this person waking today isn't the same as the one who woke in the not so recent past. The passing of these times has torn most everything from me on an internal level. The question of "who am I" and "what do I want" is no longer clear cut. Mostly, I just want to turn my mind off, and have a few moment's peace. Even as things around me become more peaceful, the mind cannot break free of the chaos...

What can I do? I mutter a prayer, watch a fly land and take off again. Hang on for the ride.

That fly has it right. It's doing its thing
Being a fly. Fly-ing itself through life.

The human world has a way of detaching us from just being human. I hope you find your hope and peace.

 

[JustGeorge]

I'm here to help....

With Age Comes Happiness: Here's Why

New research is unraveling how and why the elderly “choose happiness”

www.scientificamerican.com

To Be Happier, Start Thinking Like an Old Person

Personal Perspective: Although physical health declines with age, happiness does not. Depression, anxiety, and the loss of cognitive function are not inevitable.

www.psychologytoday.com

Well, some of that is positive, at least. I'm doing some of this already... I guess I'm 'old' at heart.

Its probably just a question of letting the dust settle before I can get out of fight or flight mode. In my case, it wasn't simple anxiety... there really were things to fight or take flight from. Mostly fight. I haven't got any wings and I don't care to run... Though I did learn adrenaline can move me to the speed of a manic child on a bike if need be.

My knees don't like that, though.

Its been a quiet week, though it'll probably take a bit more than that to make up for several years of near constant chaos.

That fly has it right. It's doing its thing
Being a fly. Fly-ing itself through life.

Don't forget stopping to poop on stuff.

The human world has a way of detaching us from just being human. I hope you find your hope and peace.

Thank you.

 

[Guitar's Cry]

Don't forget stopping to poop on stuff.

I mean, is not doing so really living?

Thank you.

You're welcome.

 

[JustGeorge]

I mean, is not doing so really living?

I don't know, but I don't want to find out...

 

[Guitar's Cry]

I don't know, but I don't want to find out...

Also, with age, that just gets better and better, and with more acceptable excuses.

 

[JustGeorge]

Also, with age, that just gets better and better, and with more acceptable excuses.

I gave up with excuses...

I recently had a conversation with my son's psychiatrist to try to illustrate how unstable he'd become. I could no longer leave him for even a moment, and he was volatile if I tried to take him to the bathroom with me. I told her I was considering wearing a long skirt with no underwear so I could just go in the yard. She laughed. I told her I was being serious. It was coming to something that drastic.

Since then, he's been stabilized so I can use the stool without trouble but there comes a point where excuses just don't matter anymore.

I also had the good blessing to be created without shame.

 

[sun rise]

The passing of these times has torn most everything from me on an internal level.

I use this opportunity to post a poem I wrote over a decade ago from what might be a similar or related internal state although from vastly different experiences. May your fallow plowed internal field be sown with seeds of growth that germinate and mature.

Void

A man sits
by a tomb,
head bowed,
lost in thought.

Tears
at a life ended.
No where to go,
nothing to do.

Former joy
is now ashes.
Former life
is now silent.

Surrendering,
he merges
with the cold, still earth.

Dawn's mist
invokes quiet and peace.
Existence is an eternity
of patient waiting.

Slowly felt:
dawn's earth warming light.

From the tomb,
a seed opens;
a flower begins
its slow sunward journey.

 

[JustGeorge]

I use this opportunity to post a poem I wrote over a decade ago from what might be a similar or related internal state although from vastly different experiences. May your fallow plowed internal field be sown with seeds of growth that germinate and mature.

Void

A man sits
by a tomb,
head bowed,
lost in thought.

Tears
at a life ended.
No where to go,
nothing to do.

Former joy
is now ashes.
Former life
is now silent.

Surrendering,
he merges
with the cold, still earth.

Dawn's mist
invokes quiet and peace.
Existence is an eternity
of patient waiting.

Slowly felt:
dawn's earth warming light.

From the tomb,
a seed opens;
a flower begins
its slow sunward journey.

Beautiful poem.