Time pauses in that last breath before darkness,
when the dying phosphorescence of the after-light
In this brief moment I glimpse the finite,
watch each drifting particle of breath, ponder
Reaching for the switch, I flood my world
with light anew.
I recently found this fragment of writing in my drafts folder, written at a time when work was beyond busy. It sums up the frantic energy — tiring but rewarding — that has been tearing me away from any creativity recently.
How rare is it now that I look up to see the stars, or down into the tangled sprawl of blossoms? Though I may look, I so seldom see beyond the words on a screen, printing their way across my thoughts, or the many tiny puzzle pieces of a schedule I must fit together, the ever shrinking number of days left to do it.
None of this is to say I am unhappy. Busy, tired, at times overwhelmed, but challenged, stretched and growing, too.
So many thoughts employed, so much to do, that I must beg your pardons, stars, blossoms, but it will be another few weeks till we meet again. Till then, I am flying by will and grit alone.
I am walking through a steady rain, the steely evening lit by the glowing reds and golds of fall’s colour display.
I feel the magic of this life, a quickening of the heart, an uplifting.
I pass under a bridge’s pale, soaring arches and its lights turn on, one at a time, matching me step-for-step:
In the midst of a life messy with family and work and responsibility, this moment feels like the perfected scene of a movie.
I don’t want it to stop. I feel I could walk for hours. And so I do.
Dreaming, I let fall all expectation, all requirement, all responsibility.
Dreaming, I walk in a twilight that hangs between day and night,
I make turns without thinking, following curiosity, letting whim form my path.
Until, rousing myself, I find myself facing my front door.
It has been a little over a year I think since I posted anything I’ve written. Cyber-silence doesn’t mean not writing, though. I’ve written things, jotted down thoughts and impressions and moments I wanted to capture.
I just haven’t shared them…for multiple reasons: because they have been incomplete, or unpolished, or because I forgot to or never got around to it.
Or because I have managed to lose some (why does that always happen to the best ones? There was this one fantastic one about my emotional Irish homecoming this summer…).
Snippets of poems and stories and posts have continued to jump into my head, but life happens and I forget their substance. By the time I am ready to write, I remember only that they existed and that I was excited about them, but I don’t remember what they were.
I’ve noticed lately that these snippets and thoughts are becoming more and more frequent. And the thought of posting them is also more frequent, a filter colouring them with a brighter yearning.
So here I am, writing, in the domain of non-silence.
Am I back? I don’t know. But I am for today.
I won’t try to cover all the things that have happened in the past year, at least, not here. Or not in detail.
The most important highlights of the past year are:
- I have been willingly and completely consumed by my job as an international migration specialist. Those of you who read my earliest posts will recall that I had been on stress leave when I first started this blog, and waiting for a thunderbolt of inspiration to tell me what I really wanted to be doing, but eventually had gone back to work. Well, apparently, my job was my thunderbolt. I couldn’t be happier. But maybe I could be a bit better rested. There’s lots happening in international migration.
- After 10 long years of alternating between daydreaming and denial, I finally went back to Ireland. This is momentous because for the first 23 years of my life, everything was about getting to Ireland, for the next 5 I lived there, and for the subsequent 14 1/2 years, I have tried to get over leaving.
That about does it. Now that we are all caught up, as though I’d never left, I have to get going.
In my dreams last night, we
the planet, but also
teetered on the brink
of a black hole
time spun out of control
planes fell into the oblivion beyond
and everything shifted sideways
but the light changed, too,
so that in our terror
we were distracted,
bathed in rainbows.