Not only gratitude for stories, but...
Lack of gratitude for my own existence combined with gratitude for the experiences I've experienced and observed, and for the existences of so many other people who are inextricably part of me, constitutes a lyric moment--lyric monument, even, as well as all the stories.
As I return, surprisingly rapidly, from deepened intertwining with anorexia to a clearer-headed, less klutzy, state, I wish that my haphazardly fixed scale weren't sending me crazy with implausible, potentially unhealthy, messages...but imagine if I were able to write a poem about that lyric pain!
Similarly, standing here, waving the white flag, being in an open space, not knowing what's to come next, I see a poem waving its flag, the staff of the flag being a pen, inviting.
It looks as though I missed quite a number of your posts. I just read about 5 or 6 of them before leaving this comment. I think you really have found your voice. You are writing from the heart. It's so real. I wish you could find a way to heal yourself and be comfortable with it, too.
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DeleteThanks, Shannonmarie!
I'm feeling like I just got over a big threshold, so I'm blessed with a voice to bring with me, I hope ;)
Grateful for our connection.
love
Ela
I whooshed out a huge breath at the end of this post and all I could say was "wow"
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DeleteThank you, Kay, for the felt accompaniment. "Wow" it is--scary and intense.
love
Ela