Month: July 2011

An Unwork Day

The world of Unwork is very different.
It is very stressful to be so free.
I am haunted by lists of old…to do, projects, upcoming events.
They are slowly fading away from my memory.

5:30 am is still the waking time of the Unwork day.
Up. Cook. Get ready for the day.
My time has gradually become filled with other things.
Cleaning. Cleaning and rearranging.
Odd thing is, the more I clean the more dirt I find.
A speck means a reclean of the whole thing.
No matter what it is.

I have seen other faces now wearing the look of the unwork day.
At coffee shops. At the library. At the book stores.
We all have that new look of the freshly unworked.

Hope lives with in us.
We are all looking for the shift.
Like daylight savings time, we wait for the shift.
The shift of the day when times moves us.
Moves us out of the coffee shops, out of the book stores.
Moves us back to the nine to five.
Work!

Today is another unwork day.
Who knew being free could be so stressful.

Night Scapes

Last night I was dreaming. About what I can’t recall.
Now in the light of day it was a good time.
I was most interested, then odd and out of the blue,
I heard a voice yell, “MOM.”

In my dream, like an alarm.
It fit nowhere with anything that was happening.
Awoke I did. The time was not 3:15AM.
Dark was all.
And Quiet.
I listened.

Was it my REAL child? Was something happening and she called me with her mind?
Those circumstances would be dangerous for her.

I got up just to see. I sleep in the other wing. Isolated and alone.
I padded heavily back to her room and all was well.
I peeked in to see drawers half open, clothes on the floor.
Typical room. Typical teen.

I went to her. Pulled the covers back slightly and she stirred.
Her eyes opened but she did not see me….really.
This morning she had no recollection of my visit.

That call puzzles me still.
MOM!
It was a voice of alarm from another place.
Another time.
Another dimension.
Me, it wanted. Me.
I hope she is alright
I could not get to her.

Call again……I am here!

Change is a Hard Thing

Change is a hard thing.
It taxes the mind and soul.
It frazzles the nerves and jaggles old thought patterns.
Resistance is ugly.
And trying.
And viscous.

Even more so when thinking is only one way.
With no room for options and no flexibility,
one really becomes a great liability.
It makes you crazy.
It hardens your mind.
It bitters the soul.

Sad.

Constance resistance means strife
Day in and day out for no reason.
Discord and out of sortedness
is the front and center order of the day.

It drains my soul.

Escape is my way of finding solace.
Escape is my way of finding sanity.

Change.
Just bend a bit.
Happiness may come your way.