Thursday, March 06, 2008

Journal Entry - Hunger


Today I am fighting the fear . . . crying over my hunger . . . I am starving here. I have lost everything. I have become a nothing. I am lying on the ocean bottom and the world is sailing by above me; right over me. They don’t see me. They don’t look down. They don’t know where I am and they do not ask. No one asks. I am alone. I am alone. I am completely alone in myself. And I am trying with every ounce of energy I can gather . . . with every seed of faith I can find . . . with every bit of hope still left within me . . . I am trying to rise up . . . to understand that my invisibility may be what saves me – saves me from the sharks. My separation may be what saves me – saves me from the numbers’ fate. And when I am saved will I be bitter towards them in their ignorance?

Will my arrogance also rise with me and claw at the humility that has robed me and kept me naked at the same time?

I was once a part of something . . . and now I am apart from everything.

I was once one of them . . . and now I am none of them.

I was once happily of this world and now I find myself left behind and stranded on this world waiting for the familiar to forget my name. Is that what is happening? Am I being forgotten, as I have wished?

Or, have I pulled my hood down over my face? Could it be that I am responsible for my own disappearance? Is it my eyes that cannot see them?

Was that the sound of a coin dropping to the bottom of a can? My God, what have I done? Have I done it again? Have I gone to the extreme?

Why can’t I simply read the words in the lines? Why do I insist that the message lies between? What if, all these years, there is nothing between the lines but space? Have I only been fooling myself?

I am here because I am. I did not veer right or left as the road offered. I went straight into the crackled clay dessert, sure of myself that I was headed for the Emerald City.

I am here because I chose this route or non-route - as it appears now to be a detour.

I am here because something in me won’t let go . . . won’t let go . . . won’t really let go of the pain.

I am here because I won’t let in . . . won’t let in . . . won’t really let in the love.

All I can do is accept where I am and what I alone have done to myself.

All I can do is ask God for the grace to be transformed from a nothing into nothingness and pray that my house of mirrors will pack up and close its doors forever - not just for the off season.

(Will the bearded lady and the world’s smallest man miss my exhibit? Will I miss them? What will I be when not brightly displayed between them?)

All I have left is the hope that God’s light does shine brightest through nothingness.

I know it does. I know it will. When is the question. When?







Echoes of Hunger

I am alone

I am alone

I am alone

In myself

Won’t let go

Won’t let go

Won’t let go

The pain

Can’t let in

Can’t let in

Can’t let in

The love

Am I invisible

Am I invisible

Am I invisible

To all but myself

Am I forgotten

Am I forgotten

Am I forgotten

To all but myself

To myself

I cry

To myself

I weep

To myself

I curl up and tuck away

My stomach

My heart

My body

All ache

You give me your coins

I want your hand

I want your hand

I want your hand

To help me up


8 comments:

Maithri said...

Dear Lindy,

I am here.

You are beautiful.

Love, Maithri

Pythia3 said...

You ARE here, Maithri...thankyouthankyouthankyou:)

Justgivemepeace said...

Here's my hand, sweetie,
no trinkets,
no hallelujahs,
or mardi gras beads....

sometimes,
all we need
is a hand....

And the belief....
that
it will always be there....
not always in the familiar,
but in the faces of strangers,
or the trails of the accidental butterfly....

Peace~love
little one.....

Alexys Fairfield said...

Lindy,
You are not alone. We all feel the same way at times, but we forge ahead. We are here for you.

May I remind you of a poem that I have read over the years called, 'Footprints In The Sand.'

"One night I dreamed of walking along the shores of different lands. I could tell that You were with me by the footprints in the sand.

As I gazed upon the heavens, I saw pages of my life. It was then I realized that You remained there by my side.

When the clouds began to gather and the rains came falling down, I looked to only find one set of footprints on the ground.

I said, "Lord, why did You leave me in the troubled times of life?

I believed that You would always walk beside me day and night." (Then I heard:)

"My precious child, I'd never leave you. I have carved you on the hollow of My hand. It's then I carried you in My arms, When you see one set of footprints in the sand."

Lindy just know that however you are feeling, tomorrow is a new day.

Peace my friend.

Pythia3 said...

Dear justgivemepeace,
Thank you for your kindness and caring . . . "trails of the accidental butterfly," so beautifully visualized in my heart.
Much love

Pythia3 said...

Alexys, thank you . . . I do love that poem. Thanks for reminding me of its beauty in truth.
I also remind myself of the words my mother always said: "This too shall pass."
Blessings

bella said...

I am new to your space here, your words, your open and provocative offerings.
And I am honored, humbled, to have come across such a voice as yours.
I too have come to embrace and live my calling as a feminine warrior. And so I feel a kinship with you, deep and true.
What you share here, in its rawness and depth, is true power. To own where you are, what you feel, to let the hunger stir in you, to open to your heart which aches and bleeds.
You are not alone. For whatever its worth, know that I see you, that I tenderly hold the space for you, that I honor the heart you have which opens and wants to be free and seeks courage to live fully alive.

Pythia3 said...

Bella, your words, your meaning, your genuineness brought tears to my eyes.
I welcome you and I am humbly honored by your presence here.
I send you blessings as your journey up your path - the path of the female warrior - a most honorable path.
I am here for you, as well, I extend my hand to you.
Much love,
Lindy