both ends

everytime I think I'm able to let go a little and float away, a huge backwave comes out of nowhere and drowns me again
.

and then it smashes me up onto that f*ing beach, where I don't really want to be stranded

don't get me wrong. . . I do understand
.

I look about me and realise I have so much to be thankful for: home, children, health. . .
.

yes, 18 years ago my mother was dying, and the snow was keeping me from her - but I didn't know she was dying and I was just enjoying the depths of the mid-winter weather. . . sometimes not knowing can be a blessing

..
that was a long time ago, and I don't think about it much anymore - the grief, the pain, the loss, the forced letting go because there was finally nothing to hold onto

..
but I'm not so good at it when it seems as if what I want/need/desire to hold onto is only just around the corner, in time and space; it's harder to let go of something that is so close, for me anyhow

.

but anyway, I'm not in control of all of it, am I, not all of it, so even when I try to let go sometimes there are still threads that seem to be attached
.

and other times, huge cabled ropes of attachment

for some reason all of which makes me think of a fisherman's net, piled up on a wharf or jetty, all faded and a little ragged and a few too many holes that are larger than they should be, but able to be cast out into the oceans nevertheless. . .
.

. . .and thinking of a fisherman's nets takes me one step further to a huge rusty chain, no longer oiled and in use - but left in a pile in some forgotten corner. . .

. . .making a curious impression on the floor, such that should the chain ever be lifted up and removed one could see where it had been - if you know what I mean

and that's life, really, isn't it? we are covered in impressions of the things that have happened to us, but our links are solid despite the rust; we have holes which hold things in and other holes which let things out; sometimes we can try and let go and it can be painful and we just don't understand how experiencing this pain is supposed to be a healing process, altho we know that hanging onto the pain hurts like hell; when we think some of it is gone, it turns out that that bit was only the tiny tip of a rather large and lurking iceberg; we worry about a few loose threads and yet it turns out that there are huge strands still holding us down (now I'm thinking of Gulliver)
.
and from Gulliver to gull isn't a huge stretch of the imagination, is it. . . so join me there for a while. . .

the way to catch a bird is to be the sky
- did you know that?

. . .and as we watch the birds arc and wheel about above us, I'm hoping that someone is going to come along with a "matters to this one" kinda thought and throw me back into that ocean; right now I don't know if I like being stranded on the beach. . . but in my heart of hearts (you know that place, where the truth resides?) I know that I can't expect anyone else to do it for me, I am responsible for where I'm at; yesterday was a good day and tomorrow might be another one; today was totally and utterly crap but it doesn't mean anything more than that - today was crap; today's not a "keeper", but what I learnt today is that yesterday I was doing ok

and I hope you are doing ok too