“Once Upon Another Time” By Sara Barielles

So, it’s been a little while.

I let myself forget myself these past weeks, so I could just enjoy being.

But I still felt empty.

Because, being me involves so much. But it’s simple really.

And when you read the thoughts you’ve been thinking in someone else’s book, your hearnuts explode and you just can’t even.

You just. Can’t. Even.

Sister Sara, I heard me all over your book.

This morning, as I came down from the high of being with my son, which is always a high and never disappoints, I could feel the impending emptiness that’s always lurking in the shadows of the day, waiting to pounce on my trampled heartnuts. (Heartnuts, another quirky phrase I’ve adopted, meaning ‘the nuts of my heart,’ or the sensitive part of the heart, where you feel most deeply.) So, as I prayed over my son before I put him to bed, I gave up. I surrendered. I said, “I’m here. I’m just here. Show me how to BEW again.”

And God said, “Go to your piano.”

And this time, I didn’t doubt or question. I just did it.

And all the sounds that once used to love me like a mother, that cradled my soul by way of my ears, they came right back out my fingertips and through the keys, dusty and so badly out of tune, and my voice rose to meet them in the air, and I was free.

I don’t know what it will ever be. And that’s just fine.

I’m here. I’m just here. Show me how to BEW again.

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“Little Wonders” By Rob Thomas

Lady Lazarus.

I took the day off today, for many reasons, all of them good and justified.

I only got 4 hours of sleep, again.

I am explosive with anger that sits just beneath the flimsy surface of my resolve.

I have prayed and still have no more peace to prove it.

And it all just makes me feel a little more dead on the inside.

It’s a mental sick day. And I felt my husband’s disdain for my decision like a snowball to the face this morning, when, upon returning to bed after feeding our son, I had to ask him to move back over to his side of the bed.

“You’re taking a half day, [riiiiight]?”

“No, I took a full day.”

Stone cold silence.

And then I’m convicted, guilty, a self-indulgent child who can’t rise above it and get over herself and go on with life. At least this is what the imaginary evil voice inside my head translates it as.

I gotta stop listening to that guy….

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“The Wide Sea” By Birds of Chicago

My life is the eye of the hurricane –
an island of calm in a sea of uncertainty.
– Jonathan Lockwood Huie

I’ve been quiet for a while.

To be fair, it’s the holidays officially now, so things are starting to pick up. Busy. Bustling.

If I thought I didn’t have time to “figure it out” before, I really don’t have it now.

One activity drags you into the next into the next, here, there, a student, a teacher, a parent, a friend, a baby, and on and on and on, lapping me up and backwards and upside down, lungs filling with watery waves of activity, and I’m drowning. I barely have the wherewithal to come up for air and admit (yet again) that I want to breathe. I need to breathe. It is a seemingly never-ending cycle which never ends SO FAST.

And I’m so ready to sl-o-o-o-o-o-w d-o-o-o-o-o-wn. Aren’t you?

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