We rise, we fall, we rise.
(Native American poet)
"Lift tab to open."
I have risen and fallen many times in my vagabond career. As one who is currently in the state of the fallen, I look forward to the future. From the bottom, the area of loss and tethers, there is no way to look but up, if I don't want to stare at my walls and wonder. When the wind was at my back I made a lot of decisions. Some of them turned out to be the wrong ones. That means recovering the ground I lost. But others were not so bad, and that means being able to recognize the advantages that I still have.
I look at a pile of seemingly insurmountable difficulties, so much that I have to do, or has to be done for me, and can't even begin to think about rising again. And there are dangers down in this pit with me, daemons that take the forms of fear, depression and despair. One of the things I've managed to learn is that when I bark at them they will go back and hide in their corners. I know they will come out of hiding again, but I will bark at them again and keep barking until I get out of their way.
Nothing is repaired in an instant. Everything takes its own version of time. How long recovery takes is not usually a known quantity. But the stitching and mending goes on How long and how much effort will it take to get back to where the wind is favorable? It often seems like the ocean I live on is nothing but contrary winds, or, what's worse, no wind at all.
There is a lesson I've learned from being older. In the morning and for most of the day if I want to accomplish something in my apartment, such as wash the dishes, vacuum the floor, read my mail or anything that requires my attention and physical activity, I must do it slowly, bit by bit and not try to rush through it. Walking through my apartment has to be carefully done or I will trip on something and take a tumble. Even standing up and sitting down require delicate maneuvering. About climbing my stairs? Don't ask. I putter and mutter, but I get myself fed, showered and dressed and it doesn't matter how long it takes me. So I look at my life and the loss of the parts of it that were so valuable and important to me and realize they are all attainable once again, in other forms, perhaps, but the harmonizing elements that brought them growing up from my being are still there.
Whenever I lift the tab and open the box the contents are all still in there, and, though I can't shake them all out and use them at once, I often gently amaze myself at what I have accomplished during the day. There is more to be done today than I can do. But, instead of depressing me, that excites me and gives me hope. It means I may amaze myself again tomorrow.
Kick a few leaves around.
Weekend Head Scratcher
Two of the items below do not belong on the list.
Which one's are they and why?
3 good answers so far.