A Difference of Ten

Where did it go?
The cute 5 year old no more.
Those hugs, those eyes, adoring,
Now challenge, argue, defy.

I, once seen as queen,
Merely serve,
Taxi driver, cook, housemaid.

What happened to playmate?
What happened to fun?
What happened to sharing
Tender moments and love.

Ah...the teenage caricature emerged,
Hissing, spitting, demanding rights
Twisting truth,
Aching to fight.

Respect dismissed,
Passion free,
Anger, scorn, spite,
Hurt to receive.

Hateful words
Charge the battle for power,
Vying needs to control
Turn relationship sour.

Rebel yell!
You or me?
At 30 years older
Has to be, my mission
To find equanimity.

Fun on a Monday

So what is fun? Not a weekend of petty arguments with my son, not drinking so much wine that I fall into a pit of lethargy, not cleaning the broken fridge or shopping on a Saturday for a demanding Mother-in-law. Fun is letting go, laughing, drumming, connecting with the real stuff. How easy to see when alone and in space, how difficult to keep hold of when one becomes two or more.
I was prepared to make this entry positive, yesterday "life is good" was my title. I love my life. Believe it or not I love my life: my husband, my son, my self, my work, my friends, my emerging creativity. The flatness is part of me. Be mindful, accept, enjoy rather than endure! It is the yin to the yang.

Snorting in my Sleep

Another terrifying dream last night. I am in bed, downstairs in a topsy turvy house, perusing a present of a box of chocolates that is mainly empty. I know it is not what it seems. Inside are strange shapes like dark pop up cardboard houses. I am puzzling over it, pleasantly surprised at being given a present yet curious at what it will reveal. Suddenly I become aware of danger. The familiar terror is nearby. It feels this time that it is a huge monster with loud, heavy footsteps stomping purposefully across the floorboards above before desending the stairs. As usual I am paralysed, so desperately needing to flee, so rigidly incapable of doing so: powerless. Then a heavy weight on my chest like a supersize hand, holding me down. I am inert, my desire to wriggle, squirm, kick, fight, incapacitated. I realise that I am snorting. My usual heavy breathing technique employed to beseech touch from outside in order to break the horrific spell has evolved into the call of a swine.