birds eye view

There are times when I feel overwhelmed. Just like you, there are times when I feel like my heart’s being dragged and plunged and swept into the ocean. In salty waters, making the heart sore, itchy and stiff. At times it’s like the rain-soaked sponge. Growing heavy with each drop that settles on it, until the moment that it freezes and stays swollen and complete. Occasionally, it’s like being swept in the typhoon, where forces greater than me, the universe are deciding its wind-swept future.

It’s times like these that am fortunate enough to realize that the only way to calm that heart, to bring it back to its place and rhythm is to take a step back. To retreat. To soar high and above and beyond what is normal and present. To look at yourself, from afar. To see you through the others eyes and judge yourself.

To bring balance and normalcy back, the waters need to be calmed. The waters will calm themselves is there is no pull from the moon. Removing oneself or severing the ties from the moon may be exactly what is needed to bring balance and normalcy back.

Image

Like the poem below by Rilke:

I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone

  by Rainer Maria Rilke , translated by Annemarie S. Kidder

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone 
    enough
to truly consecrate the hour.
I am much too small in this world, yet not small 
    enough
to be to you just object and thing, 
dark and smart.
I want my free will and want it accompanying 
the path which leads to action;
and want during times that beg questions, 
where something is up, 
to be among those in the know, 
or else be alone.

I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection, 
never be blind or too old
to uphold your weighty wavering reflection. 
I want to unfold.
Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent; 
for there I would be dishonest, untrue. 
I want my conscience to be 
true before you;
want to describe myself like a picture I observed 
for a long time, one close up, 
like a new word I learned and embraced, 
like the everday jug, 
like my mother's face, 
like a ship that carried me along 
through the deadliest storm.
 
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