Lying Fallow

In his song, "Empty", Ray Lamontagne writes:  "I never learned to count my blessings, I choose instead to dwell in my disasters.  I walk on down the hill, through grass grown tall and brown and still it's hard somehow to let go of my pain..."  I wish I could've written that myself, especially since it's so clearly about me.

I have lived this past year, and many before it, surrounded by beauty and blessings.  Still, my best wrought thoughts and poems have too often been dedicated to the pain I have felt, the pain I have caused, and the pain I am afraid we will all feel in the future.  Sometimes, I feel as if my life is just one long apology.  I think it's time for that to be over with.

So, though it is incredibly hard for me not to begin this entry with an apology for my absence from my blog, I will not.  For one, the only people who really read this blog to begin with have not missed me at all.  For the most part, they are either family or live with me, and in the past few months we have been busy living a full and mostly happy life.  Secondly, and most importantly, I have needed this silence.  There was no real reason, to be honest.  I was just tired of talking, tired of trying to catch people up on what had happened in the past so that I could start talking about the present.  I was lying fallow, waiting for the right "now" to start from.

I can't honestly tell you why now is the right time.  As I write, I can see the sun shining on a backyard ravaged by winter, a week of torrential rain and several unfinished projects.  If ever there was a temptation to write about disasters, this "now" would be it.  But the sun is shining, I have a backyard full of happily watered plants, and those unfinished projects will keep me from being bored for a month's worth of weekends.

There is opportunity to improve out there...and right here where I sit, too.  But I've seen bare patches of dirt before, and I'm getting pretty good at figuring out what to do with them.

To quote Ray Lamontagne again:  "Well I looked my demons in the eyes, laid bare my chest, said 'do your best to destroy me.  You see I've been to hell and back so many times, I must admit, you kind of bore me.'"

They're just problems, after all.  Nothing new or exciting.  Nothing that can't be worked through with a little patience, hard work and creativity.  Today, even if it's just for these few moments of clarity, I refuse to be robbed of my right to happiness.  We'll see how tomorrow goes, but with any luck, I'll be here to tell you about it.

Life is good.

 

 

Comments

[Anamarie Dwyer]

Lying fallow is inevitable and necessary. I missed you.

[Eddie Duarte]

¡Este me gusto! Es mas, me inspiro. Esta chilo.