i will not get it all done.

time is rushing by me
like the wind off the train that rattles your room,
shaking the dishes and knocking books from the shelves,
and you roll over in the night and mutter
“won’t it just leave me alone?”

but time doesn’t ever just leave us alone
and there is so much to do with so little of it.

my head…
my head fills with the ever evolving lists of what needs to be done
and the things that must happen so that this day may end well and
i can get from here to the next place
because there is always another day and another place to be

and my heart laughs quietly
sarcastically
because it knows i will never get it all done.

while my hands
simply *itch* to get back to work

but my ass
and my feet
have struck a deal -
i’m not going anywhere for a while.

and that’s when i remember to look up
and see you,
there,
grinning at me.

 

vacuum

i did not come into this terrifying depression in a vacuum.

nor can i escape it.

but the nurse that ignored my cries for help as

“making too much noise”

is not the one i turn to daily.

i do not need her to hear me now.

i need you.

without you, i am scrambling up the sides of a steep slope

and falling back against the rocks.

and yet, with your hand in mine, i often find those same rocks

scraping at my cheeks.

when i beg for you to hear my words without judgment;

yet you take them apart and show me where i am still flawed.

when i turn to you for a smile, a hug, a show of support;

yet you can only tell me i should have acted as you would have.

when i am at my most wounded;

yet you pause only long enough to throw your salt -

i wonder if you can truly help me find my way out.

it is so hard for you-

to see the one you love hurting so.

and it only makes your pain worse -

to know how hard you work, every day,

when i can hardly hold my head up from sunrise to sunset.

yet it seems that when i need you most,

is when your hurt and resentment are beyond you,

and we are unable to be of any good to one another.

the good days are the easiest.

if i can smile at you,

over folded laundry and washed dishes,

you can know i still love you

and i have not gone away.

and then you can smile back.

but love and life do not exist in a vacuum of good days.

and i need to be allowed to show you my bad ones

without fear you will only make them worse.

or i will never find my way out of this

rock-strewn canyon of my depression.

 

a moment worth praying for

1st: as those of you who know me are aware, i’m not a very religious person. but some things are absolutely worth praying for.
2nd: with all the big “firsts” in this inauguration, i fear many people are missing some  of the finer details. like this one:

It is widely known that President-elect Obama asked the first openly gay Episcopal Bishop, Rev. Gene Robinson, to be a part of the ceremonies. What is not known as well are the words the Bishop spoke as he delivered the invocation at Sunday’s We Are One inauguration concert.

This is one of the moments worth praying for.

“O God of our many understandings, we pray that you will bless us with tears –- tears for a world in which over a billion people exist on less than a dollar a day, where young women in many lands are beaten and raped for wanting an education, and thousands die daily from malnutrition, malaria, and AIDS.”

“Bless us with patience and the knowledge that none of what ails us will be fixed anytime soon, and the understanding that our new president is a human being, not a messiah.”

“Please, God, keep him (Obama) safe. We know we ask too much of our presidents, and we’re asking far too much of this one. We implore you, O good and great God, to keep him safe. Hold him in the palm of your hand, that he might do the work we have called him to do, that he might find joy in this impossible calling, and that in the end, he might lead us as a nation to a place of integrity, prosperity, and peace. Amen.”

with love,
sabrina

 

the point

So I’ve been wondering:What is the point of marriage?

Is it to be able to say we’re married?

That is to say we have one person in our lives with whom we reciprocally care enough to tie ourselves together?

Is it to share our lives with that person?

And if so, what does sharing our lives look like?

Is a shared life one of shared thoughts and ideas?

Shared efforts?

A shared home?

A shared bed?

Is the point of marriage to create a space within this world where we and our partner (and any children that come to us) can feel safe and welcome and valued?

Is the point of marriage to create a place within this world where our shared thoughts and ideas can take physical form?

In other words: what is the point of taking one relationship and raising it above all others to call it marriage? And what does that look like in practice?

And how do we get there?

 

twisted with strands of lovely weeds

I began to write a blog.

And then I realized how frightened I was of laying my world out for others to see.

I’m afraid of seeing my world on my own most days, but showing it to others for analysis and comment…

Well, that proved to be too much.

3 months have passed.

3 months of sinking back into the depression the blog was supposed to help me fight.

3 months of anger at my husband, getting irritable with my darling son, and hating myself.

3 months of wondering what the point of each day was.

The image of an overgrown rose patch comes to mind: brambles and thorns, twisted with strands of lovely weeds, and the brilliant hue of the few surviving flowers catching the rays of sun as it rises only to set.

I guess today is a sun rising day. And I must, absolutely MUST, make the most of its’ warm energy to begin working my way loose from these vines and thorns and overgrown paths.

Bear with me.

I need you.