Life is rich. I'm so very thankful for the good in life, for the people who help make it that way.
The morning started with my young adult son picking at me. What a card! The day was spent with paperwork, good music, my son popping in and out, phone calls with peeps, a few internet interactions with good people. The evening was filled with time on a conference call with some of my favorite folks and then with a dear friend, and of course later with my closest friend by my side as I lay my head down to rest.
As I lay on our king-sized tube water bed with the fan whirring for white noise, I checked in with the different parts of me; parts of me that have emerged in the last six years, especially the last three. I call them personas. That may scare some people. If so, then maybe imaginary friends of children scare them too?
Have you ever watched a child at play? Just sit and watch, not play with the child. To me, it's fascinating and wonderful. That this child can talk to the "air" with such imagination. Life is an adventure, to be discovered, to be embraced. A simple stick can become a spoon, a person, a giraffe; a living creature.
When I checked in with my personas last night, Gremlin was still missing. He's been missing for a couple weeks. I have felt a sadness over that; he joined us with much sulking a few months ago and after a bit began to play. I'm not sure where he's been the past couple weeks; if he will re-emerge or not.
Yet the others were there.
The Tender, who is always always oiling gears and watching over us, was sitting down. He never sits! He was content to rest. He said the gears are working very well and that he is considering changing out the waterwheel to electricity for power. I doubt that will happen though. I think he likes his work.
John, the gentle giant gardener, was still tending the crops. John was the first 'persona' that I met, but at the time I didn't consider him as part of me. He appeared in a dream one night, back around 2003 I think. I'll never forget that dream.
Nanna, the little girl who was once the scapegoat, is happy. Along with Abe who looks kind of like the Pillsbury Doughboy and was once abandoned. And Sally, the timid horse who loves to play with Abe and Nanna. Last week they were all distant, saddened, not active.
Last night all were blessed and happy, except that there is a hole in the heart for Gremlin, wondering where he is. We miss him. He may never come back. I'll just keep checking in.
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Following is a poem I wrote back in February about a few of these personas. It's still "Unfinished."
Oil can in aged hand
The Tender slicks the gears
"They rust when they have sat awhile
Moistened by only tears."
"I'll get them working one at a time
Squeak and turn until they're smooth
Time, patience, no rush at all
They'll almost be like new."
We sit and watch his nimble hands
Abe and Nanna at my side
His confidence always near
His quiet way soothes our minds
"They rust when they have sat awhile
Moistened by only tears."
"I'll get them working one at a time
Squeak and turn until they're smooth
Time, patience, no rush at all
They'll almost be like new."
We sit and watch his nimble hands
Abe and Nanna at my side
His confidence always near
His quiet way soothes our minds
february 25, 2009
me
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