"so you nurse your love,
like a wounded dove,
in the covered cage of night.
every star is crossed,
by frenetic thoughts,
that separate and then collide.
and they twist like sheets,
till you fall asleep,
and they finally unwind.
it's a black balloon,
it's a dream you'll soon deny."
trying for some hope tonight, in things, in life, in my own beliefs and desires. it is hard not to feel an overwhelming sense of one step forward and sixteen steps back lately, especially when you are struggling with a lingering depression that nothing seems to shake. so, part of me disappears, and part of me recoils. i try not to build up the predictable walls i've always been so good at constructing. instead, i seek solace in music, and in silence (unusual for me), and in giving myself the time i need to sort my soul out.
i was remembering this afternoon a friend i once was close with, and this technique she used when dealing with dark times and her own struggles. she would try to list at least five things she was thankful for, or things that made her happy. i borrowed it, well more than "borrowed", i shaped it into something i've used on occasion - and into something i've suggested to others to try. to list the things that you are thankful for, things that make you happy, or help you breathe, and also to make a bit of a wish list of things you want to do. looking too far forward can bring on the overwhelm, but sometimes having a few twinkling plans is a good thing.
strange that this song brings out this in me, though conor has always connected to me, lyrically speaking. sometimes hope comes in oddly shaped packages, or in the twist and turn of an unexpected song. so, i sit here and write a small list, and struggle over some of it, while other bits and bobs come pouring out.
* my children
* music that makes me feel
* lasting friendship
* vacation (someday)
* healing (for others and my own)
* that i can find the balloon pump for veronica's birthday for balloon animals (hey, wishes do not have to be enormous)
* that my writer's block will end
* the ocean (soon)