I Want To Remember Today

Found Tasneem Kagalwalla on Medium and had to share. She’s slowly becoming a favorite. Her writings are so raw and so real-atable.
Beautifully sad.
We women just feel so much shit.
And we write about it.
Props ❤


I want to remember the crazy excitement
the tossing and turning
of being in and out of sleep.

I want to remember the pure exhilaration
the smile on my face
waking up to an alarm in the middle of the night.

I want to remember the ecstatic happiness
texting you in the wee hours of the morning
knowing you’ve arrived, somewhere close by.

I want to remember the elated anticipation
sitting up eagerly in bed
looking for your reply.

I want to remember the sheer bliss
when you did
making plans of when and how we’d meet.

I want to remember the mad manic
of the morning
as I blindly rushed through my chores.

I want to remember my furious heart beats
dashing through traffic lights
as I hurried back home.

I want to remember the painful waiting
of when you’d call
imagining all that we would share.

I want to remember the growing restlessness
repeatedly checking my phone
aimlessly pottering around in despair.

I want to remember the intense uneasiness
the worry of wondering why
you wouldn’t call or reply.

I want to remember the wretched anxiousness
every passing hour brought by
as I watched hope being crucified.

I want to remember the searing hurt
flowing through my blood
as the day passed me by.

I want to remember the curdling anger
when you messaged late at night
to nonchalantly say, couldn’t make it this time.

I want to remember the sharp sting
of being stood up
yet another time.

I want to remember feeling so stupid
for making a big deal
of an opportunity you so casually let go by.

I want to remember my burning tears
every drop
that stained my pillow.

I want to remember the punishing loneliness
of a day
I never thought would end this way.

I want to go out of my way
to remember today
so that I can forget you tomorrow.


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Imposter

Beneath the veil of a thin veneer

That shades the proper movements

Of an ordinary life

With no extraordinary strife

There is a tell at the edge of her happy.

 

Not seen by all, but to some so clear

A quivering hesitation

Lives deep in the anguish

Of unspoken language

In the echo of the sweetest laughter.

 

Perfected artifice in surrogate love

She bears her loss in the weight of the lull

Between each step she takes

And works hard not to break

The uncomfortable rhythm of her stride.

 

 

 

 

Internal Dialogue #2

Walt Whitman once wrote, “I contain multitudes.”

One of his most poignant verses reminds us that we are never just one thing, and all the quirks, imperfections, and contradictions are par for the course. Never have I found anything to be more true.


These past 10 days have been full. Fuller than any other 10 in nearly as many years. I have been stung by old words, hurt by forgotten pain, challenged by new beliefs and blessed by the coming together of a Heavenly Ask.

One day, 10 days ago, I got down on my knees and cried. A deep, wrenching, private cry full of despair and anguish and hopelessness. I’ve cried this cry before. But this time it was different. My heart had finally hit the threshold of  weight it could carry and it was more than I believed it could bare. Suicide was more than a thought. I can not lie. It loomed. Large but silent. And I wondered if maybe it was truly time to just end things.

My. Life. Had. Finally. Become. Just. Too. Much.

But, as has happened before, once again, the tiny voice of my broken child stamped her foot loudly and yelled, “No Trish! We can do this! We deserve so much more. And we haven’t done what we were put here to do yet. We have a purpose! And we still have a fucking best seller to write. Damn it!” She gets pissy when I go dark.

So, as I have done before, I listened to her.

But something inside felt badly broken. And solemnly irreparable.

I’d truly lost all hope. I was tired. Worn. Ragged. Bruised. And feeling beaten.

It took a lot to let her in.

I’m not really the praying kind. Though that might change now. I have a very confused relationship with God. But I have always believed that something is looking out for she and I. And always has been. Or we would never have survived this Life.

So…on bended knees I clasped my hands.

And I spoke to God Universe.

Really spoke.

Pleading from a place so deep and so raw and so achingly real, that I know it was my souls voice in askance, and not that of this mere mortal shell. I do believe we are the two things at once. Maybe even three. What the fuck do I know? But I closed my eyes. Wept. And spoke from that place only the truly desperate understand.

I asked God Universe, “Please show me my path because I am so lost and so confused and so unable to see any light. It’s dark. And cold. And I feel alone. I am drifting to a place I fear I may never return from. My heart is heavy. My mind is clouded by things I can’t let go of. And my soul and I have disconnected. So, I’m letting go of all of it and trusting that you will guide me to wherever it is I need to be and to whatever it is I need to do.”

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Three days later my life changed.

Like BIG BANG! changed.

I watched. I listened. I paid attention. And I did not ignore the signs. Any of them. I did the work and moved out of fear. And miraculously, I started to feel my power rise to the surface. It was…

Nope. No words yet for this feeling.

But I trusted. In the Divine.

And felt myself truly acknowledging belief in Me.

And that was an unfucking-believable moment. It was…

Nope. No words for that one either.

But for the first time ever, everything felt almost…easy.

Something had definitely cleared the path.

Like a cool, clean ocean breeze. Blowing through my mind with gentleness and forgiveness and love.

And over the past 10 days Life has been constantly changing and rushing at me with un-imagined abundance.

I am still in awe.

But I trust in Life again. And it is beautiful.

And I am grateful.

Coincidence? Perhaps.

But I don’t think so.

Shakespeare suggests, through his character Hamlet, that human knowledge is limited. I’d have to agree. And every moment that I spend in gratitude, I know the words he wrote are a pure, profound yet simple truth. I loved them when I first read them, and I love them still. Because they are so so true!

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” 

God Universe truly does work in mysterious and amazingly unexpected ways.

Ya…

What a difference a day makes.

24 little hours.

And a soul-spoken prayer.

In gratitude,

trish_heart


Lonely Roads #2: Migration

On the bus again. 

Solitude beckons.

Heartache shared.

I’ve screamed. I’ve cried. I’ve left.

I’ve hurt. I’ve breathed. I’ve let go.

So many regrets

Live inside the place

Where Hope should have thrived.

I am human.

I’ve made mistakes.

This bus ride

Is not one of them.

For weeks I’ve listened and watched

The Canada geese fly south.

Migration.

Homeward bound.

Eminent.

Wings spread in formation 

Sure of their path

And their place

In the grand scheme of Life.

The first and the last

Equally important

For the survival of all.

Bound by nature.

By familial bonds.

By something

That has no word in English.

But as much apart of them

As their regal crowns.

As I boarded the bus

I found a feather.

Tucked it in my pocket

And wished to belong to something 

That has no word in English.

Moon Love

Since Rhonda’s death, and subsequent Celebration of Life, when I hear friends who I myself introduced to her, and who barely knew her, laugh and talk of her last few years, I just want to scream.

When they speak of the bond they shared over music, conversation and coming out, I am overwhelmed with such a raging sense of betrayal, broken trust and abandonment that the loss of my friend itself has become almost secondary.

Almost.

In my woundedness I fell into a place of childlike pain and reflection. Of helplessness and lonesomeness. Lost in despair of broken trust and the pain of abandonment. I cried so hard and so deep and felt such pain that the bowels of heaven and earth must have shifted in empathy to make room for more of my tears.

And I started talking to the moon. Again.

Then I found this beautiful read.

An imagery that captured my soul and spoke to my 4 year old self. Funny how stuff just shows up when your heart needs it most. It’s not luck, or magic or coincidence. It’s the Universe at work with the law of attraction.

In reading Jessica’s story, which found me online, I recognized that I too have talked to the moon since childhood. Private conversations that honor my deepest feelings. Existing otherwise silent on a plane buried deep within my 4 year olds recognition of being unloved and unwanted. It is a hurt that has no remedy. No platitude. No fix. Buried deep in my psyche, entrenched by the magnificent volume of sheer repetition.

I don’t know if I can ever heal this wound. It bleeds with such little provocation. So deep and raw is the source.

My friend, my truest sister, left me alone to suffer a cruel punishment for a crime I didn’t commit but one I will pay for whenever I think of her now. Hear her name. Or learn of another life experience I should have shared with her. The suffering is acute. The questions endless. The pain familiar. The hurt stings my eyes in overflow.

It is not merely a jealousy that others were privy to her company the last few months of her life and I was not. It is the deeper, unbearable knowing that I was not wanted.

And I have nowhere to put that.

Nowhere at all.

So, it hangs in the quiet luminescence of conversation with the moon.

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I just found and fell in love with the mind of Stella! ❤️

View story at Medium.com

She just resonated BIG time today. All week has been a struggle with one thing or another blog related. Ugh. I think she might have a wee drinking problem lol, but otherwise I love what she’s written in this post.

Setting Of Intentions

Last week on The Buddha,  I wrote this in a puff of deflated, uninspired breath.

Well, This Week Kinda Sucked

Finding Stella J. McKenna today on Medium was kismet.

It’s a great post!

Reminds me not to take myself so seriously. And we ALL need a reminder of that sometimes.

See ya soon!