The world's wisdom.

Walking through the babies breath,

I watched the infant flowers bloom.

Doves cooed.

Birds chirped and bees buzzed.

Life was everywhere in sight.

The rustling in the bush,

the babble from the brook -

it was all so beautiful.

A passerby passed with his hound,

a flap from a bird startled, resounded.

How I loved the moment,

the setting, the scene.

A crow called

then all was still.

The symphony restarted and soared.

There was such magic in my midst,

such simple beauty.

Life, problems, faded

as the bird's song chorused louder and louder.

Clashing and harmonising in one

the animals were all having such fun.

What beauty I beheld.

Creation merely responded and acted as it was designed.

With no agenda, no prerequisites, it just 'was.'

They were just 'being.'

It was so comforting for my soul.

It was so comforting to me

to see such glory in such simplicity.

How often do we complicate things -

do I complicate things?

Too often.

It's time to stop.

It's time to glean wisdom from within the world.

It's time to ‘be’ unashamedly me.

How easy that was to write. My disposition was at a place of relative peace and it was positively effortless...

How was I to know a significant battle was about to unfold?

I suppose it was a kindness that I'd been able to glean those tiny keys of wisdom beforehand.

We had left for the day. There were plans and errands, deadlines and deals to be made, signed and delivered. It all seemed wonderful. It all seemed fine and dandy - until it wasn't.

The shift came swiftly and I care not to articulate when and why, but the result was my ability to function vanished.

I could no longer speak or walk. It hadn’t been quite that bad in weeks. I was mortified that my friend saw what it could look like - that her husband saw. I wanted to hide. Defying tears slid down my cheeks as my body followed suit. It was unwilling to move.

Each and every step was a battle. Legs stiff, jaw taut. I was being betrayed by my being. Sentences were stilted. Only necessary words made it out.

How humiliating. We were in public. People watched as a woman held the hand of her friend who had tears silently sliding down her cheeks.

They offered to help the debilitated stranger.

They took her as disabled.

Could I have been any more humbled?

It was merely hours beforehand that I had been walking the moors perfectly fine. That all was realitively well. The previous poem had been scribed, there was a spring in my step and I was beckoned to ‘be’ like the birds.

How could I accept ‘being’ in this new state?

How when this state was so humiliating, so excruciating?

I didn’t like it.

I really didn’t like it.

But what could I do?

In all truth, all I could do was ride it out.

Jealousy, frustration, rage coursed through my veins.

They were to no avail.

I wanted to wail, to scream out in utter frustration but there were others around.

I didn't want to cause an even greater scene.

Hate started to brew.

Countering that with grins and 'giggles,' the weed of despair was stilted for a moment as snaps were captured.

We were in the most extraordinary of places... why was my heart, my mind so terribly ordinary?

Feeling guilty that I couldn't maintain a 'light' demeanour, I left to slowly walk the moors. I didn't want to be such a dampener, but the build up of such incredible sadness was constantly threatening to be revealed for what it was. I needed privacy for that scene.

The sight of the setting sun mirrored that of when it rose. The chatter of birds, the bustle in the bushes, the babbling brook, the call of the dove, the gentle breeze… It was all so similar, but I was so different.

My steps had slowed and more people were about as I fought to ‘be’ in the moment.

I saw two friends sitting.

They were talking and laughing, enjoying one another’s company.

I made an effort not to clench my fists.

I made an effort to unclench my heart.

Finger by finger, one at a time.

My heart needed to be freed.

The beating of betrayal was raw in my soul.

Scars both seen and unseen were seeping with sorrow.

I didn't understand why the wounds were so deep.

A pray escaped my lips,

Lord what are you doing?

Silence.

Seeing the path that lay before, the scene and everything in my midst, it caused me to stop. I couldn’t understand how I had become this woman. The pain was extraordinary. I fought such sadness with the grit of my will.

Could I be reduced any lower?

I was afraid of the answer.

In my experience, the answer was yes.

I held my tongue.

How could anyone truly understand when I couldn’t myself?

How could they when words miserably failed to articulate the reality, the feeling, the magnitude of what I was experiencing?

I suppose I needed to learn to say,

“It’s ok. This too shall pass. The pendulum will swing the other way soon.”

I wanted to weep, but what good would it do?

The birds still sang, the sun still shone, the sky still opened.

Life still continued.

So would I.

Libby, my therapist has said time and again to ride the wave,

that it would eventually pass.

I could only pray it would do so quickly.

I eventually made it back to Amy's.

My soul still wasn't settled. I wanted to go out again, but knew it wouldn't do.

It had gotten dark and it would be foolish.

She sat with me instead.

Frustrated that tears found their way down my cheeks once again, I couldn't explain it all to her.

Words were unwilling to coorperate.

She was beautiful. Dan, likewise so kind to give us a few moments alone.

It was a long night, after a very long day.

The pendulum of trauma didn’t swing to the other way until another sun rose.

How long would this be my reality?

Be it a day, a month, a year, god forbid more, I need to learn self-kindness in every season - even the most humbling of them.