Saturday, October 1, 2011

October


I can feel the cooler air rushing in. It comes in rustling gusts. The pecan leaves are beginning to fall, always the first to do so and of course, the last to appear in spring.
I feel heart-stopped.
Torn and jagged.
For no apparent reason.

The train goes by. If Owen was here, he would throw himself into my arms. He likes to pretend that the train scares him. The other day we went into the old barn. It is dark in there and the door creaks and it would make a terrific haunted house. "Scared," he said.
"Are you scared?"
"Uh-huh."
"We can leave."
"No."
He is still so young that he likes being scared. His scared falls far short of terror. I would hope it always does.

What is Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome except for never getting over a terror? Terror can settle itself into the body and reform everything. I believe that. I also believe sometimes that I spend my entire life trying to comfort myself away from the terror that took root when I was so young.

Doesn't leave a whole lot left over for much else.

Well.

I am supposed to go to town today. I am meeting a friend for lunch. Such a simple thing. Meet a friend for lunch. I need to go to the store. We're out of fruit and coffee is on sale and I think maybe I need one of everything. I need to pick up Zeke.
So simple.
It should all be so simple.

When I went out to get the paper this morning, I looked down the road and thought to myself, That road leads everywhere. The light was pouring down the road as if it was illuminating that point.
I got the paper and came back inside.

The wind makes a noise if something stands in its way. The dunes on Dog Island catch it and cause it to whistle. The sea catches it and causes it to sound like foam dissipating. The pecan leaves catch it and it sounds rusty and swishy. Pine trees catch it and it sounds like whispering. Things give tongue to the wind.

Words give tongue to the heart and the soul and the mind.

Oh, it is such a beautiful day, even with the gusty rustle of cooler air. Or perhaps, because of it.

This light. I wish you could see it.

I wish I could just once wake up and be glad of the light as it pours down the road which leads to everything.

I wish I had never been scared and could be the woman I would like to be, embracing that light and traveling the path it makes, shining on my hair, even as it turns gray, even as the wind whispers messages of the cold to come.

19 comments:

  1. We had such a wind blow through the other evening. gusts up to 40 mph, all the trees and shrubs thrashing around. no rain though. the rain didn't make it this far. well, rain of a different sort. the ground is covered with dead limbs and sticks.

    have courage. it's a beautiful world.

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  2. Sometimes you do wake up and are grateful for the light. I know. You tell us.

    Have a good day, MM

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  3. Somehow after the fear, you learned to write about it. So now your words, your thoughts rustle so many readers' hearts.
    And I wanna say that road comes back home, too.

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  4. Muscle has memory, and the heart is a muscle.

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  5. The light that comes through you when you share exactly these things, that I thought for so long no one else knew or felt, and that I certainly could not find the words to express, has CHANGED MY LIFE. If you only knew girl, what your WORDS have done....
    Bless you on your windy path today.

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  6. Your words comfort many people who have been through terror. I wish that living with fear wasn't true and that it went away like a thunderstorm goes away. I don't think we "get over" anything. I think we just learn to live with what remains. How we live with it, not IT, makes what our life is. There is the before and the after. Our minds will not take it away and remain intact. Someone told me we have to remember so we can forget. Struggling to live with life after the event is a vocation for some.

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  7. Ms. Moon-


    I don't say it enough, but goddamn.


    You fill it out, woman. You blow right beyond the far edges of it.

    You make us all feel bigger and more alive, and that is a beautiful gift.


    Thank you.


    yrs-


    tearful

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  8. Inquiring minds want to know: How did Zeke do at Lily's?

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  9. Mary I am so thankful that you watch the light that you pay attention to it and the garden and the chickens and all things natural but especially the light your descriptions of how light changes and moves and your photos of light which is something special about you.
    xr

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  10. Mary, this is one of your most exquisite pieces of writing.......awesomely beautiful.

    And,
    You may not believe me, but one CAN get over an old terror that one has carried with them and clutched to one's bosom for an eternity. The trouble is I cannot tell you how to do it.

    I have managed to do it twice (with 2 different terrors) Each time I was writhing with the pain and agony and sick unto death of suffering the same thing over and over and I found myself looking thru a long tunnel of time... seeing my repeated agony over this same damned thing from my early life and heard myself saying, "That's enough already......this is crazy.....I do NOT have to do this anymore." And, my inner being agreed and the terror just went away and never came back.

    Sounds simplistic and impossible, but it did work for me I think because I had finally come to realize that there are bundles of our pain that we drag with us thru our lives with clenched fingers that can really be set down and left behind when we are ready to give them up. Kind of like a bad habit that you outgrow and don't need or want anymore.

    So, call me crazy.....I don't mind.

    I do love you so and wish I could send you a bottle of the magic..

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  11. "To everything - turn, turn, turn
    There is a season - turn, turn, turn
    And a time for every purpose under heaven"
    ....The Byrds version

    Ah yes, the turning of the season is a good and soothing time. Soak it up, Love. It is healing. x0 N2

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  12. Ah Ms. Moon... The beauty of this writing gave me shivers.

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  13. Ellen Abbott- It IS a beautiful world and I know it. Thank-you.

    SJ- I am always grateful for it. I can love it more some days than others.

    Denise- Oh yes. It does. It always does. That road come back to home.

    Elizabeth- Yes, yes, yes.

    liv- You have no idea how much what you said here means to me. No idea. Thank-you.

    Jaye- Damn. Ain't it the truth? And I take great comfort in the thought of learning to live with it. Thank-you. So much.

    Tearful- YOU are a gift. Thank-YOU.

    Juicie- He did very well. But Lily still gave him back. Sigh.

    Madame King- I am just so fucking happy to hear your voice again, which is another sort of light in my life.

    Lo- See the post above for my comment to your comment. As always, love...Mary

    N2- I will, sweetie. I will.

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  14. I agree with Lo. It is possible to not relive the terror. I don't think it is forgotten but gradually lessened and looked at as an odd insect would--"Hmmmm...that's interesting but not something I want to pick up and carry." The past is done for me. I only go there to test the waters.

    The light is beautiful and this morning was crisp. Beautiful time of year.

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  15. Syd- I don't relive it so much as just feel I am in its constant shadow. Even in the light. Which sucks and is stupid.

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  16. No doesn't leave a whole lot for much else.
    Beautiful and searing post.
    My therapist thinks I have PTSD but I still don't know why exactly, no one beat me or molested me. Still I have lived my entire life in hiding.

    I like yr line to syd.

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  17. Bethany- Well, I sure don't know. There's a lot of trauma that can be neither beatings or molestations. I like Syd in general and always appreciate his comments and I feel he understands (as do you) when I answer them.

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  18. I've been thinking about this question of PTSD for several days and I don't think that shadow goes away but I think we look for the light around the edges. Consolation perhaps.

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  19. This is so beautiful. I hope Owen's scared always falls short of terror too. I'm pretty sure it will, due to his sweet family.

    I love you, Mary. I wish you peace.

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Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.