Skip to content

Yearning for myself

September 14, 2010

I just read Kerri Snell’s poem, “Garden”.

When I commented on it, I realized how much I am yearning for the writer who started my blog. Where is she?  Why is she not embracing herself?

Once again I’m caught in the bustle of activity that has taken away my stillness.  I’m not resting in silence.  I’m running.  From one thing to another.

When I commented on Kerri’s poem, I realized I need a garden to sit in, where I can listen for the footsteps of the One who would still me.

That thought struck a deep bass chord – a huge-handed chord – piano strings responding to my outstretched fingers and full arm‘s strength.  Like Rachmaninoff’s dum-dum-dommm.  Melodramatic, yes, but punched in the gut to know how far away I am from that peaceful place.

I’m stuck in a garden that needs watering, weeding, picking and ripening.  Will my tomatoes ever ripen???

I read the poem.  Loved it.  Raced to comment.  Pulled out a quick sentence from my depths.  That was my mistake – because it left a hole in me.

And those footsteps.  I don’t hear the footsteps either.  I want to hear the footsteps.  Not back then, NOW.  I want to settle down to listening.  I want to stop and smell the roses – smell them, not sniff them as I race back into the house, saying to myself, “Better take time to smell the roses,” like it’s a formula for peace – a pill that I can just pop into my mouth, throw back my head and swallow.  “There!  Roses smelled.  Check!  Whew!  Done!”

I like to think of myself as so damn spiritual.  I know all the right things to do and I do them — do do do do

Sweet being

Sweet being


“Not as the world breathes” puff puff puff

But deep healing breaths.

Aware breaths.

Healing, cleansing breaths – below my navel breaths.

Nothing in this world but my breathing.

Thoughts only of breathing,

Thoughts only of in and out in and out.

Don’t purchase your breaths.

They breathe without your effort

I have to write!  Write!  Write!

An imperative.

I’m driven.

When I’m driven I have nothing to say.

Nothing worth saying.


Nothing comes out of this frantic place.

Yes, well crafted, maybe, if I’m lucky,

But soul-full –



Want to share

Want to share

Want to share.

Want to spew

Want to spew

Vomiting wisdom.

Good girl.

Don’t you see how futile this all is?

Effort is futile;

Intention is futile.

I cannot do without first being:

Two sides of the same coin ,

Yet I forget to flip the coin over.

Breathe in and out

In and out

Don’t forget to breathe



Oxygen deprivation


Brain dead

.  .  .

In and out, in and out . . .

.  .  .


Stop and breathe

10 Comments leave one →
  1. Judy Henderson permalink
    September 14, 2010 10:07 am

    Very well put Nancy….and I know the feeling. I sometimes think I’ve forgotten how to take time for myself….to breathe deelply and feel the Lord.

    • September 14, 2010 1:09 pm

      Thanks, Judy. Today has been a beautiful day with a few nice ripe tomatoes! Nancy

  2. planejaner permalink
    September 14, 2010 10:21 am

    I have had this thought, recently, too…wondering where the “me” that started blogging at the beginning of the year went…

    perhaps i will see you out of the corner of my eye as we rest in the Garden, together, breathing in the One who restores.


    • September 14, 2010 1:10 pm

      How nice to know you’re there! Nancy

      • September 14, 2010 4:08 pm

        Hi girls:

        I’ve found that putting pressure on myself to write when the muse is not there is no good…it feels forced, and just adds to the stress. My two cents worth…


  3. September 14, 2010 6:06 pm

    This is great.
    Nicely crafted.
    I suppose my muse is generally quite kind to me in that inspiration comes easily. lol

    • September 15, 2010 6:47 am

      Thank you, Richard, for your supportive words. You have a lovely muse who has a gorgeous sense of humor. I’m not up to date on the Arts, so I’ll go catch up now. Thank you for listening to your muse!!!! Nancy

  4. tekia permalink
    September 15, 2010 6:45 pm

    Nancy, I feel the frustration! I have been there myself many times. I like to think of it as just a rut and it’ll pass. It has to pass otherwise, we’re doomed to fall in line right behind everyone else, that is to say, busy and stressed with no creativity tick. Great post!!

  5. September 16, 2010 10:46 pm

    Nancy.. !! I am appalled and scared by the last few lines! But maybe you were speaking about the writer in you. It will come! Can not be forced to awake and arise. You are already a spiritual being, having embraced yourself and the whole world with self-less love.
    Hang on! Cheers, Punam

    • September 17, 2010 7:39 am

      Oh, dear. I can see what you might have thought. I was just dipping into meditation. It was a resolution of the struggle, just to be still, breathe and rest in the silence. So sorry I frightened you. I love life too much to even consider the alternative. Please be assured of that, my lovely friend. N

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: