Donnerstag, 6. November 2014

Another poem - thanks to Nathalie from my tribe

Wait - by Galway Kinnell
Wait, for now.
Distrust everything, if you have to.
But trust the hours. Haven't they
carried you everywhere, up to now?
Personal events will become interesting again.
Hair will become interesting.
Pain will become interesting.
Buds that open out of season will become lovely again.
Second-hand gloves will become lovely again,
their memories are what give them
the need for other hands. And the desolation
of lovers is the same: that enormous emptiness
carved out of such tiny beings as we are
asks to be filled; the need
for the new love is faithfulness to the old.
Don't go too early.
You're tired. But everyone's tired.
But no one is tired enough.
Only wait a while and listen.
Music of hair,
Music of pain,
music of looms weaving all our loves again.
Be there to hear it, it will be the only time,
most of all to hear,
the flute of your whole existence,
rehearsed by the sorrows, play itself into total exhaustion

Bad Hair Day

Slowly getting used to the idea  that I don't need to be perfect and at the  same time, forgiving  myself for being exhausted  by  the games my little Ka* is up to these days, I have decided to post little stories of my daily  endeavours rather than not writing at all or waiting for some - so far unidentified - muse  to kiss me.

I got up this morning (OK - late morning) with the intention of washing my hair and therefore, I took off my watch and laid it.... somewhere. Then I couldn't really face washing my hair but neither could I remember where I put my watch. Which actually is waterproof so no need to take it off in the first place. 

I had coffee and was looking forward to seeing my therapist which I hadn't seen for two weeks (or so I thought). We had just switched the meetings from weekly to bi-weekly so the hours approved by my insurance could be stretched a little. When she opened the door she looked surprised somehow but greeted me with her usual friendly smile. Then she picked up her schedule and said haltingly: "I wasn't really expecting you today." And I was like.....ooops! 

However, being the empathic person she is and because she had some time she gave me thirty minutes to vent. 

Interestingly  enough I ended up telling her about all the good things that are happening right now and when I started to walk home, the sun had come out, shining brightly upon my  unwashed head. 

*Ka is what I have christened  my depression because it reminds me of the junglebook character in her ways and means.