Anonymous
Thoughts are like clouds. They change and move, sometimes they are gentle and soothing like August evenings. Sometimes they are dark full of rain, and we must turn away.
Anger churns, coils, and burns through me. Thoughts of my infertility swirl about. Feelings of failure mix sourly with our ruined non planned afternoon. It resulted in both of us depressed, spitting, and snarling at each other. He headed out to run off his emotions. I needed to exercise too but I couldn't go anywhere like this. I thought to myself, I need a long walk or maybe go to the shops.
Nature’s simple stillness calms my feverish ruminations, grounding me in its lovely transitions. The busy endeavors of little creatures remind me I must keep busy with my own tasks. Doing helps with thoughts when they feel too painful to bear. Toilet paper runs out, washing machines stop- three clicks. Time to stir. Belly rumbles, conversations will be had. We live in a circle of continuance, watch a film, forget it, watch another and so on. We are no different to bees, birds, ants, leaves and trees. We keep trying to get the spot on the feeder, going to work, fitting in, or not fitting in. It is as in nature when we don't fit in that we can feel the pain of being excluded from the tribe.
Clouds have come now laughing at my attempt to harness some drying time with a full washing line. The Buzzard cries overhead. I do not like to think any animals are hungry and in distress. Like us they suffer they experience so much uncertainty and they too keep going. The crows are having a quiet meeting on a nearby roof. I would love to know what they make of it all.
