Category: Discomfort
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Uncertainty
really is everywhere.Will that dreadedthingever happen?And when?And what willhappen then? Andwill I ever beok again?And what willpeople think.And will Ieven cope, andbe able toshow myface. For Imay fail.I may tryand stumble.I may be overestimatingmy own greatnessby the truckload.Yet: how willI know?Unless I diveoff this bridge, knowingthat I’m notpacking aparachute? The answer reallyis simple.I’ll only know,…
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My Precious
this real lifewe’re buildingcan be tough. Toughin its rawness, in thediscomforts ofeveryday adulting. Andalso in this new, mutualdependanceon the other, whichis only348 days young. Yet inthis moment, I couldnot nameany other thatI would rather behandholding on ourjourney. You continueto astound me.And be super bossy!And funny, and kind,and a dog spoilerof epic proportion. Theseare afew of…
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For Chris
I trustthat the wavesof yournew life arebeing kind.And thatyour curiosityis finding asoft landing withkindred spiritsin thisnew chapter. Our environmentsdo reinvent us,perhaps subtlyat first, yet overtime theyhelpunlock a newsense of whowe are, andcan grow into. This is my wishfor you: the additionof colour to yourfull-cream living. Newadventuresand pathways. Theunlocking, anddusting offof marvelousbitsof yourself, thatmay have slippedbehindthe…
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What happens
when youjust breathe?When you simplysit, by yourself.Staring into space.No phone.No need to talk.Just being. Discomfort, for sure!Yet as you stickwith it,it seeps intoyour bones.The quiet. The easy.The huge exhale. It’s stuck, deepinside your chest, afterweeks, months, orsometimes, even yearsof holdingyour breath. Of struggle, of disappointment,of getting up, bruised. Exhaling setsyou free. It’s beautiful,simple rythme. Feelyour…
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December
brings withit a certainquiet melancholy. Moments ofacknowledging the gapsthat those wehave loved, and lost,leave behind. Moments of could have,should have, and whydidn’t I,do better. It’s a time ofyear wherebody batteries runlow. And things,are stacked on topof other things, and whendealing with “just one things”feels near impossible. It’s alsoa time ofquiet reflection. Abouttaking stock, and countingthose…
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And today
I’m remindingmyself thatlife really is bestlivedin thetiny details.That first sip of a greatcup of coffee. Thatquick chat witha friendly stranger.That momentwhen things“just” feelnice. Yeah, the BIG highsare fantastic. In mostlives though, theytend to be quite few, andfar between.Leaving a wastelandof average days and moments,to be contended with, and toblossom intomeaning. Life is for living, at…
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For me, on a day when I need it most
Time passesanyhow.Irrespective of howmuch orhow littleyou fit intothe hours of youraverage day. The rinse repeatcycle, isreal. Tapping oneeasily in themundaneness ofeveryday life. For the daysare long, and theyears are short. Andsometimes, itfeels as if yourvery survival isat stake. Yetlook up and lookahead. Wherewould you liketo be next, andwhere wouldyou like tofinish? Plot your course, anddo…
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For M, on a blustery day
There isthisplacecalled the in-between.The teais a little insipid,and theblankets a tadtoo fluffy.It’s a placeof doomscrollingand boredom.A placeof feelingsmall andunseen.No muscle is stretched,noangst is hadto achieve a seeminglyunreachable goal. Upon arrival hereit maybriefly feellike a place ofrespite. Of rest.A havenworth lingering.Yet the dullnesssoon swallowsone up, like quicksandpooling, ankle deep. The challengeof this place is notto leave…
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And they lived
happilyever after.Only, theydidn’t…Because theyhad bills topay, and childrento grow,and laundryto do, andhouses tokeep tidy.And deadlinesto meet.And suppersto plan,and cook.And dishesto do… somanydishes. And somewherebetweenall of thesethings. Themagic seepedaway… slowly at first.A missedkiss,a cursory glance. Oneof them,may even havefelt thisloss of heat, of tenderness,and decidedto do… Nothing.Or perhapsthere was no actualdecision. Just life,the realness andthe grit.…
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I make
myself small.Head down,body foldedup.I wantto beinvisible, orrun, far away.Puttinghuge distance betweenmeand thisterrible thing. I don’twhat to beexposed. Asweak, as stupid,as thinking moreof myself,than I should. Ofbeing found outasnot beinggood enough.With aspirationsabove myrather modeststation. I watch this movieunfold. In my head,and inmy body.Discomfort,panic and clammy palms. I stay withit.And ask: If not me, then who?Where is…