Raindrops on Saucer Magnolia Bud
“As soon as we put something into words, we devalue it in a strange way. We think we have plunged into the depths of the abyss, and when we return to the surface the drop of water on our pale fingertips no longer resembles the sea from which it comes.” ~ Maurice Maeterlinck
I feel like a total failure today. So many reasons why. Perhaps it’s that fall that I’ve been dreading. Perhaps it’s just an accumulation of things. Perhaps it’s nothing at all. Sometimes, too often, I hate the way that I am—the eddy and flow, the swirl of emotions, the long sleepless nights filled with thoughts moving too rapidly to collect, the sensitivities floating just below the surface only to be so easily bruised.
There is no one explanation when everything matters and nothing precisely is the cause. I only know that my heart aches for all of the things that I cannot do, for the unwritten pages, for the unsung songs. My sense of self fractures much too easily, especially when I dwell too much on the minutiae of life.
Nothing is wrong, but it all hurts too much. I write of being a parent, loving my children, loving my husband, and then I turn the corner, and WHAM. Reality smacks me in the face. All that I long to do for my children I cannot do because I am caught here in this never-ending cycle of nothingness and constant failure to thrive.
Failure to thrive. That term that is used so callously to describe those beings who do not grow as expected. Isn’t failure to live more accurate?
It’s not a competition. Really, it’ not. So why do I set myself up against that to which I cannot compete? So many things undone, put aside until the time is better, and meanwhile, the time never gets better. Never. Gets. Better.
Excuse the endless flow of words that do not move in any logical direction. It just cannot be helped today. Sometimes, it’s just better not to write, especially when the words make little sense. But sometimes, it’s easier to write than to think, giving voice to the unending questions: What if? Can I? Why can’t?
Perhaps, but no.
Great Lake Swimmers, “Moving, Shaking”
I can’t sing
I can’t play
My insides have been broken
My inspiration has flown away
It’s hard to see all the little things
There’s a universe
In a crack in the wall
Or an ant crawling across
A broken tile
And it’s hard to see all the little things
When the big things get in the way
I can’t eat
I can’t sleep
I can’t think straight
I did not know it could be like this
Some things are better off being left alone
There are things that are better left unknown
Oh hands,
Don’t fail me now
They’re the only things I have left
Oh fingers,
Don’t let me down, now
They’re the only things that aren’t gone
Oh world, come
Come crashing down, now
Oh hands, don’t fail me now
Oh let me become deaf and mute to this
Oh hands, don’t fail me, now
I’m carrying my life in a cardboard box
Carrier bag on my back
I’m carrying my life in a cardboard box
Carrier bag on my back
Oh hands,
Don’t fail me now
They’re the only things I have got
Oh fingers,
Don’t let me down, now
Oh hands, don’t fail me now
All Hell falls
All down around me
Oh hands, don’t fail me now
Oh fingers,
Don’t let me down, now
Oh hands, don’t fail me now
Lola's Curmudgeonly Musings 
It seems, even in this, we are soul sisters. I sit here now, soaked in tears and frustration. And though I do wish better for you, I have to admit…it’s nice not to feel so alone in even this moment. I find your confessions brave and solace in your words. Though, I’m sure they exist simply to be let out. Still, you free me as much as yourself. Thank you.
But just as I remind myself, I’ll remind you…it can’t rain all the time.
And by the by, I’m digging the new layout. Snazzy!
Dear Drenched in Salty Tears,
I am sorry for your sadness, but glad that in this, too, we find solace in each other. It actually does make things easier to know that someone really does understand what I’m talking about even if I don’t include the full story as to why I am so crushed. No, it does not rain forever, but sometimes, the rain is what is needed. You know?
Thanks about the layout. I’m liking it.
Einstein, Marx, Nietzsche, Eddison and many other (so-called) great people were considered failures in their lifetimes. Hell, Einstein’s teachers thought he was thick. But if such people can be considered failures, don’t you maybe think that thinking in such terms is just simply wrong?
Just keep trying, there’s not much else you can do. And you’ve probably got enough on your plate to worry about without worrying whether you’re a failure or not…
Take care,
Andrew
Andrew,
Thank you so much for the reminder. As soon as I had published the post, I began to regret it. So much wallowing gets to me sometimes.
I must admit to taking great satisfaction in the list of great people in history who were considered to be stupid. That Einstein couldn’t tie his shoelaces seems rather shallow in comparison to what his mind did. It is a matter os perspective, which I tend to lose sometimes.
Cheers,
Lita