I'm in kind of a reflective mood today. At the end of last week, I was feeling a bit worked up. I allowed what's going on politically right now - particularly what I've been seeing and hearing about sexual abuse and harassment - really get to me. I became emotionally overwhelmed when I felt old wounds I believed to be stitched up and healed long ago begin to burn hot and painful at the edges.
I sat down and did a lot of writing over the last few days. Just personal rambling. It's overwrought and angry. It made me cry and want to throw things around my office. It's messy and disturbing, and not even those who are the closest to me will probably want to read it. That's okay. It needed to be written. I use writing as therapy. That and a whole lot of music. My kids especially love it when I've got my headphones on but I sing as though everyone else can hear the music, too. I have no regrets. My voice isn't all that bad.
Why do I bring this up? Well waxing, that's why. When I saw today's topic, it immediately made me think of the moon.
It's true ... and it feels even more so like that as of late. I don't know whether I'm waning or waxing. How would I go about figuring this out? Does it matter? I guess I'm not sure.
I've mentioned that I came across a bunch of poetry I'd written quite a long time ago. Writing has always been my therapy, since as far back as I can remember. While I did write a lot of short stories back then, my favorite choice for the written word was in poem form.
I realize that there were a few recurring themes in my verse. Boys with blue eyes was one of them. Trouble. That's what they are. We won't go into that today. The ocean was another big topic, probably because the ocean has always been my happy place. And then there's the moon. I wrote about the moon a lot.
Here's one poem I wrote that seems particularly fitting for the phase I find myself in right now. I allowed current events to shake up things from my past. I dropped my guard and allowed myself to feel wounded and ruined all over again. All of that will forever be a part of me. It has contributed in the shaping of who I am, but that doesn't mean it defines or controls me. For a short while I forgot that. It's all good, though. I reminded myself again.
Shining stars glimmer on distant waves
The glistening water
runs along the beach
and then chases itself back.
The sand lies in mounds
and the castles fall slowly
Wet and wounded,
they lay ruined
The seagulls fly
in the cool, moist air
The moonlight casts a blue haze
over the land
Things seem magical,
The breeze is soft
and the air is cool
The mood is quiet
The star filled sky is like
a crown of dark blue
filled with jewels
a feeling of ownership takes place
The ocean becomes a palace
and I, its queen.