My week. a poem.

Sometimes things seem too potent to try to share using narrative writing. At moments like these I watch myself turn towards my own bastardized form of poetry, to get to what’s vital. So here we go...
 
I wanted to share with you a little bit of what I learned from conversations in my relationships (with myself and others) this week:
 
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Isn’t it sad how we come into the world in diapers and then go back to diapers. It’s pathetic.
No, it’s humbling.
 
What am I doing with my life?
I want to curl into a ball, in a cave, and never come out.
To give up. Because I’m overwhelmed.
But instead it’s time to create
These are growing pains.
 
They rock me like waves.
What lies beneath the waves?
What anchors me so I don’t float away from my potential?
 
You and your potential are fruit
The pain right now lies in how ripe you are, yet still on the stem
You will fall to the ground at some point regardless of ripeness, and be incorporated there.
So, how do you nurture yourself to feed your own fecund earth?
 
I know I need to nurture, I need to slow down… I’m overwhelmed, and I did it to myself again.
My business is how I cope.
I judge myself for not being able to internally motivate to change.
Right now it just feels like it needs to come from the outside.
But you don’t want it to come from your doctor.
(No, I want it to come from you.)
 
This is the hospital calling to schedule your next procedure.
 
Ego check.
Reality check.
Vulnerable. Scared. But of course I’ll be fine. I always am.
There’s my external motivation. It’s not the one I wanted. It never is.
But part of me is relieved. Now I have permission to come back to what matters.
Health. Relationship. Purpose.
 
And I’m reminded to:
Live your truth and share it,
You never know who you’re going to inspire.
 
 
Humbling growing pains
rock me like waves
The ripe fall.
 
Slow down.
Change is calling you.
 
Health. Relationship. Purpose. Inspiration.