A winter's day...

Rock?

A winter's day
In a deep and dark December;
I am alone,
Gazing from my window to the streets below
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

The next stanza is really sad to me. Closing off life. Not allowing it to invade. Easier to not feel than feel. Sad, really really sad.

I've built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.
It's laughter and it's loving I disdain.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

I so so enjoy those moments where feel overcomes control. I think aging is a wonderful tonic to allow those emotions to surface. Cry damnit, for it’s ok.

Don't talk of love,
But I've heard the words before;
It's sleeping in my memory.
I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.
If I never loved I never would have cried.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

Wasn’t my intent to turn this to “loved and lost”, but the lyrics made me do it. Been there, no great regrets. Many a good/great hour, day, week, year. Little things, from the shoes, nowadays really stir me. Last night, WJC basketball reunion banquet. Seeing a couple of gal former teammates glance at each other across the room – hurriedly meet halfway for a great big “I love you as a person” hug. Farm out.

Watching the Ryder Cup, just this morning.. A long putt goes in, doesn’t matter the team, it’s watching the jubilation, the glee, the ‘just after’ moment that causes me to well up. "Feel" moves.

I have my books
And my poetry to protect me;
I am shielded in my armor,
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb.
I touch no one and no one touches me.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

I love allowing life to happen. To feel. To see pics on Facebook of a new granny with her babe in arms. To watch the parents watch their kids in the Mickey D play area, the excitement of the little ones face transferring the joy to the faces of the parents. Nice.

My father grew up in the era of “men don’t/shouldn’t show emotion.” As my father’s bastard Parkinsons progressed – it did afford one positive. When those heart tug, emotional life moments came, dad was brought out of his controlled stare. Chin quivered, eyes watered, words were difficult to get out. Nice. Very. I knew he ‘felt’ all those years.

And a rock feels no pain;
And an island never cries.

Life bebbe, it’s for feeling. For if we leave here without feeling, the hell’s the use in even ever being here. I am truly gonna try to live, from hither on out, like “today is my last day here.”… “Shit” can run off my shoulders. Money woes, sure, they’ll happen. I, though, plan to be in the driver’s seat in dealing with, or not dealing so well with, emotion - and that's certainly ok by me.

I am thankful to emote. Little stuff plays large. The element of surprise, the joy of familiarity, God’s gift of eyesight… wrinkles earned in smile. Crow’s feet formed by an occasional tear. I don’t care. I’m here to feel. Today might be my/our last day, ya just never know. Open sesame heart. Life rocks, rocks don’t. Love, Victurd.