On Showing Up

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There is no rest in this. There is only treading water and holding breath and watering the plants. You tell me if I get tired I should take a walk around the block. You tell me change comes from Jupiter. You tell me maybe everything has to fall apart so it can come back together. At least I don’t write about Montana anymore.

I wonder sometimes if someone one else could make sense of this for me like I have done for you. Could you spin me something from yarn that might make visible the veins in which I ache? Might you draw me a picture so I could see where I went wrong? Would you mind writing me a poem so that I know I’m not alone?

I have said before, I have become the patron saint of the broken-hearted. You think I like feeling this way, you think I dismantle things for a reason. You think you know me. I fear sometimes I will only ever be a paper doll version of the woman I know I can be. I have to tell myself daily, there is no one else who is going to drive the ship for you. At some point, we all have to show up.

Everyone asks me lately, what do you want? I am asked this by people who don’t even know me. I am asked this by strangers on the street corner and the boy who works at the deli counter at the grocery store. I have only one answer, I want to work. Why this feels like the most impossible thing the last two months I cannot make sense of. And then I read something this morning. I do not know why I sometimes need someone else’s permission to feel my own feelings. It said clearly, “if you cannot work then simply wait until you can.”

Jupiter is two and a half times more massive than all of the other planets in our solar system combined. It is no wonder it moves through my life like this. It is no wonder that we cannot get out of the way. Change is change, no matter how much you do not want it. And at some point, the only thing you can do is show up for it.

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