Solitary confinement or enhancement?

Damned if I know yet…

All of my paths are diverging leaving a singular segue into whatever is next for me.

Or are they converging into a hypersensitive era of more learning to be all right alone?

No one is leaving. Nothing is changing in my situation.

Lives are moving forward. Everyone is growing up. Schedules are about to get complicated.

What was it that Bob Dylan sang about times a’changing?

Counter argument for me to cling to:

In all the universe nothing remains permanent and unchanged but the spirit.” ~ ANTON CHEKHOV, The Seagull

Not much else for me to say, really.

Except for the entire back-story behind this post.


So, it’s official…

Now I know out loud what I feared the worst inside.

Not earth-shattering news. Not life changing.

Certainly not assumed as much after all these years.

Not even really a big deal.


Except to me.

When we want so very much, in the deep recesses of our soul, to pour it out and fill it up by whatever means necessary  Рit can be achingly painful when some of us are not capable of whatever means we choose.

I have moved in someone else’s world and spoken someone else’s words in the deafening silence brought forth by two simple curtains parting to ignite the eternal human back to the shaman’s fire.

I hope to do that again someday.

With my own words, too.

I believe I can on occasion somehow split those demon-fire joyful dimensions happening inside me down to an understandable linguistic form and quite possibly create something beyond my own understanding.

I hope to do it again, only simpler.

And again, only more complex.

And again, only different.

Until I have nothing left of this body.

Until many bodies beyond.

I am a human by day.

I am a writer by soul.

I am a performer by desire.

No, I don’t think I can dance.

Although, that would be simply wonderful.

But I oh-so-very-much wished I could sing.

I am not telling you this to get pity. And, I have the proof, although I have been unable to convert the video to a format uploadabe, so no trying to placate me with that ole familiar “oh, sure you can!” smile on your face.

I am telling you this because that’s what I do.

Telling is what I am.

No need to mention it again, actually.

I will survive.

And very loudly whilst alone in my car, I might add…

Oh, I’m sitting here singing the where-did-I-go blues

there lurks a shadow in the distance
a thick black shape huddled behind a wall
solid brick mortared of earth and steel
unmoving impenetrable and built for war
a battle waged by antithetically heroic deeds
selfishly seeking shelter from flaming shrapnel
stealthily laying mines around the foundation
once thought to be weak prior to reinforcements
proven to be formidable beneath fault lines
separating miles beneath the false crust
to the red hot molten core
where there lurks a shadow

Some days I wonder where I’ve gone.

I have that not-so-out-of-body experience and see myself being grown-up and responsible, holding down a great job I love doing; talking openly and honestly with my spouse and children freely trusting in our mutual love and path with each other; and taking care of myself through healthy exercise, sleep and consistent creative efforts. I look at that woman and think, who the hell is she? When did I become her? Where did that terrified girl afraid to speak up, speak out and speak from within go? How did she turn into this other woman I barely recognize? I intuitively love and admire her which swells more of the same deep within my ribcage to create a celestial cycle of cultivation.

No sooner has my out-of-body self returned to its home, do I look back in anger as I see myself again in the lonely position of feeling abandoned, isolated and unsure of all the gifts the woman of the first part surely cherishes and sustains. I question my every move, sabotage my relationships, health and capabilities. I stop writing. I stop talking authentically. I stop sleeping soundly. I stare at that woman and think, who the fuck is this now?! Where the hell did the other one go? What in the bastardly blazes happened to chase off the supposedly cool and collected one leaving this puny bitch in her place? I immediately loathe and despise her destroying any chance of reasonably apparent reconciliation with my other true self.

That’s the pain wherein the wandering wonder woman that I am often finds myself. I am both truly the confident, self-loving soul of the created universe AND the whimpering, self-abhorrent object of the limited ego.

It can be difficult to embrace such a super-sized, double-wide trailer of a woman sometimes.

Unfortunately, them some times is now.