Restarts, healing, and a flutterbye

 May 27th, 2022 6pm~

I has been a while since I’ve written. I think I was in the middle of drafting a piece about music, a throwback to the songs that caught my attention when I was younger when I had paused writing last. Perhaps that was about a year ago? I’m in a place in time where I’ve reached a place where the more difficult happenings of life have slowed down, but then in it’s place another thing moves to the front demanding attention, now that the things needing priority have settled. Today I thought about how it is that I can heal myself. Last year, I stumbled upon the poet Victoria Erickson who writes these lovely verses that have this simple eloquence to them. One that I was brought back to recently was this poem:

In the process of trying to heal your own heart from the hurts caused by the thoughtlessness and lack of care from others, it can be difficult to not be able to have the kind of catharsis you might long for. A person who understands you, to hold you tight, as you cry and cry and cry, and hopefully slowly, but surely feel better. I am in this place now, where I must heal myself because of the type of freedom I’ve chose. Those I love may not know I need this or do not inquire or are too far away, but the other day my neighbor friend, the one I made over the balcony with an offering lettuce said that I looked sad. I don’t often think about being sad, but I think there is a noticeable difference from the obnoxiously smiley me when times are dandy and the me now who needs to put distance between the people who I have not fully given my heart to. I have an inkling though. I think somehow the writing will help me heal, that expressing my thoughts somewhere can help ease the weight that I have not been able to pay attention to until now. Things have been starting to move again for me, and I think that this year will be an important one. The one where, health issues/crises pending, I can clear away and complete my past intentions and make room for the deeper ones. I think healing myself will be part of that journey. Perhaps, I’ll talk more about what I need healing from next time. I think the writing with help me get it all sorted out from my head and explore what it is that troubles me. But then again, perhaps I will forget until it comes up again. But for now, I’ve finished my lemon cake and ichigo milk and have some old things to pick up to add to my strange and funny life. Oh, and before I go, a quick prayer to the crushed butterfly that I found at the station on my home today. I think it must have had a curiosity about humans and somehow got trampled while flying around the station platform. It now rests beneath a tree in front of a park where lots of children play and people go to chat on the benches, so perhaps it’s curiosity about humans can still be satisfied, and maybe it was not curious at all. We may never know.