finding hope and hopefully making sense while doing it...

lately, my mind has been running around in what feels like a labyrinth. it's somewhat tired, but more than anything it's frustrated and lacking hope. it smiles often and wants to believe that nothing is wrong, yet an unsettling feeling has lodged itself in my mind's heart. 

~

sometimes i wonder if it's the gypsy in me that i locked away after our last move, finally busting holes in the walls that surround her, determined to come out and play again.

~

sometimes i wonder if it's because of the soft and comfortable stay-at home-mom sweater that i wore forever {which now feels scratchy and stretched out since our nest is empty} 

can't seem to find it's way to the good-will pile permanently, no matter how many times i put it there. 

~

at night, i try really hard to listen to my dreams.

the big dreams are loud enough to make me feel like i'm sleeping with a marching band, made up of only bass drums and cymbals, which leave me drained and headachy. but the little dreams, that i can hardly remember in the morning, even though they give voices to the creaks in the hardwood floors as they run around for hours just after the band finishes playing, are the ones i want to capture and hold onto and listen to for hours. even if they do only speak in whispers during the day, they sound so hopeful.

~

so today, since i have the ability to control my HOPE for everything good and different in my life, 

which unfortunately, sometimes is nothing more than a barely audible drip, 

i'm turning it on full blast, like a fire hydrant being drained.

*

"at its most basic level, the labyrinth is a metaphor for the journey to the center of your deepest self and back out into the world with a broadened understanding of who you are"

spilling open....

as i sit here typing, the wind outside is behaving badly. if i had a "no surfing" flag

i'd plant it firmly in my front yard, just to make the neighbors laugh.

charlie our weather guy, who i can hear off in the distance,

just said 40 miles per hour winds. so it's also a day not to wear hats.

~

i talk a lot and often and when i don't, people wonder what's wrong even when i say "i'm fine."

here's the thing. when i am quiet, something is wrong.

i guess i'm an open book that way.

page 67 or 99. take your pick.

they both say "she's not talking right now."

that's what happened last night.

~

but you know what. my being quiet is as ugly as an egg salad sandwich

for me and anyone around me

and

today's a new day,

even if this so called day is trying to blow itself to another continent.

so my words have returned.

~

granted, they're being a bit shy.

but they're here. sitting in a circle on carpet squares with wide eyes and their hands raised. waiting to be called on.

*