Here I sit in the peace of our quiet home,
the fireplace making that wonderful hushed hiss that is a meditation in itself,
flames dancing, casting light in the dim room.
My sweet Marley is curled up next to me on the couch, her loyal heart a balm to my jangled nerves,
a good book open and ready to get lost in.
I enjoyed teaching clinics yesterday and this morning to eager students,
doing what I love every day,
My loving husband sits in his chair next to me,
nowhere for us to be but home on this chilly evening,
no place to rush out the door to in the morning.
I look around at our wonderfully funky old home, the legacy of our love in every nook and cranny.
How lucky am I?
So much perfection,
and yet, I sit here as my heart relentlessly pounds with some sort of primal fear,
my stomach uneasy,
breathing difficult in my tense chest,
relegated to living in flight or fight mode.
The unyielding feeling that no matter what I do, it will never be good enough,
that somehow I am not enough.
The urge to escape to my safe place,
to escape the feelings that threaten to overwhelm me,
the doom and gloom of a world that only seems to become more worrisome with each passing day.
Sometimes it is all too much and I just need quiet,
need to numb myself from feeling anything and everything,
the empath in me exhausted from caring too much
about too much,
my ears tired of incessant sound,
my heart carrying the burdens of a world that I can’t heal-
I can’t even heal myself.
My lesson is not to love or care any less,
but only to find a way to do it all
without sacrificing myself in the process.
This is no way to live,
feeling emotionally numb,
craving sensory deprivation,
time to just float in the quiet void of being,
alone with my thoughts,
no pressure, no assaults on the senses,
hoping upon hope that finally the fear will fade with the mist
and I can finally let go to embrace the joy of my beautiful life,
its wonderful warts and all.