.395 paix

i haven't been blogging as much since the challenge ended but i have been living in art. small pockets of time in my days gives way to small pockets of space and even smaller pockets of opportunity. my initial seven day break from technology re-instituted settle habits from my life that i've missed for some time. read four books that inspired me, watched three films that fed my  spirit, two documentaries that reignited my desire for life. 

i've began journaling again, slowly, purposefully, dutifully. within one recent entry a few significant thoughts revealed themselves. if i can discipline and dedicate myself to a project as minute, yet necessary, as that co-challenge was, then i can implement that same energy into personal projects that produce more fruit and longer harvests for i and my child. i also realized that i work 7x better when there are small deadlines involved. neurotic by nature, it only makes sense to give myself goal lines to obsess about, and thus, obtain much quicker and much easier.

indeed, these past few days have been peaceful. 'salt watered cleaned' my crystals and sat them in sunlight, ran cold water over stones given to me by sister talibah and found my father's quran, still perfumed by his scent. ate fresh blueberries alongside my littles as we danced in the spots where sun rays painted the floor and i was even able to do a bit of website grooming while building a tower made of books and puzzles and plastic 'leap frog' letter blocks. i smile to myself. this place is not so bad at all. no, i am not where i want to be, but i am exactly where i need to be...to get there.

.108 day 93

you are gone, yet, you remain

and tomorrow this won't hurt the same

but i'm grateful, still,

 (despite the pain)

for the time we had

and 

will have again

most of my father's poetry had the traditional "sing-songy" type of flow, but they were good. and i'm not being bias, here, they were really good. 

anyway, i wrote the above "piece" (that sounds so cliché) in his style because...well...most things on my heart these days begin and end with him. 

grief, for me, is uncomfortable. when i didn't understand it, when it hit another's heart, perhaps i thought them  dramatic. their out-pour of emotion, the constant longing for a reality that wouldn't show itself, the way every other thought they shared trailed back to their loved one. it all felt a bit...awkward. but now...now...i get it. this emotion is impulsive. and overwhelming. and all-consuming when you aren't careful, and you just cannot help or contain the 'how and when' your emotions decides to show itself (my own keeps slipping out, at random times, to my displeasure).

and while i'm not fully at peace with my lost, i realize, that moment to moment, i get a little bit closer to it. and while this "missing" will never truly go away, i realize, that moment to moment, i'm finding comfort in it. 

daddy used to say "oh, so, you're hurt? well, then, be thankful. it just means you have the capacity to love so hard, you're able to feel the pain of it's lost. some people go through life never feeling, and never giving, that very thing".

and with that thought in mind, i sit in tearful gratitude to be hurting at all. his love was strong, and i loved him even stronger, and my grief...is like our own emo resume. 

if only 'peace of mind' was hiring...