Pick up. Drop off.


As the meet swap approaches
the anticipation
picks up,
along with it anxiety, my forever friend.
The taste of time out.
Time off.
A break.
A pause in the persistent parenting pulse.

Instead;
The moment after exchange,
all anticipation free falls into suspension.

Relief, rest and relaxation
drops off
as if winded.
Punched.
Paused.
What remains is a quiet, pouting, pondering emptiness.

Action is shallow.
Thought is deep.
It takes a moment to regain, review, revive.

So it goes, the pick up, drop off.
#Divorce.



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Love, Lunch & Poetry

Love, Lunch & Poetry

After last week’s crazy work travel schedule where I don’t think I even got to have lunch, not even once, I wanted to fix that and try make time to enjoy this opportunity, without distractions, and take a quiet moment to just be.

My view from the office today at lunch. Not too shabby I say.

Of course, this is more than just lunch. Is it ever just about lunch? Which, incidentally is my least favourite meal of the day. It’s like an after thought, a place for left-overs, or left-at home packed meals, an irritation as you know you need to eat, but don’t have time, and don’t know what to eat, and then if you leave it too late, little miss h-angry appears and then it all goes downhill.

But not today. I made an effort today. I made an occasion of it. I made a meal of it? (too obvious? Hey… I am trying to dust off the keyboard here, give me a break)

During my quiet lunch moment today, I came across a simple, beautiful quote posted by a dear friend. I read a lot of quotes, so much so that I sometimes fear I have become desensitised to them. They often come across as great, life altering instructions with little substance.

Do great things. Be great, you are great, no wait… you are awesome – because someone said so on an image.
How? Why?
It’s ok….. you go be great and find your why, invent your how.
When?
Right now of course. Like now. Yes even if you are in bed at 7pm in your pj’s with sick kids and no energy to even decide on a Netflix series, that’s ok, you are still awesome, just get up and be great!
At what?
It doesn’t matter, because you will be great at it. You will know it when you feel it, that is what passion is all about.
Feel what? Ummm passion?? Who? me? or you? What?
Never mind, you are still great. It’s great, you are going to be great. We are all great. No, we are all awesome.

You get the idea. You did? oh.. great 🙂

However, today I stopped. I read. I was moved.

you carry
so much love in your heart.
give some. to yourself.
– r.z

It made my heart ache. It spoke to me. It felt real, authentic.
It is exactly what I needed to read.
What I needed to say to myself.
What I needed to do.

Why is this concept so hard to accept?

I care about my children, my family, my friends. What do they think? Are they ok? Have I called them enough? I care about work, work commitments, work colleagues, what they think, my bosses, what they think, my offices, what they think. I worry about my nanny having enough time for her studies, is she managing ok. What does she think?  I worry about the neighbours, the dog, rotating my tyres, deworming, and paying bills, cleaning up. Is everyone happy? Are they ok?

But when it comes to me, I have to literally be brought to my knees from pure exhaustion and utter depletion, both from a physical and emotional perspective, to even begin to consider, am I ok?

I know what I need to do, I have done the therapy, I have the lists, I know this shit:- (I have written a blog before about this – Monday Muddle Meltdown)
re-centre
replenish
take time out
be kind to myself
ground myself
do things that make me feel good

However it has become clear to me, time and time again, that I don’t make myself a priority. And this next part has taken me a while to type…….

I don’t think I am important enough to love myself.
It is as if I think I am some quiet, silent unobtrusive stage-hand to the play that is my life.

Now I am sure those self-help guru’s and psychologists out there will have a field day with this. Be my guest.

But it took a beautiful, simple quote, typed on a white page, with a red petal to slap me in the face and accept this truth. My heart hurts each time I read it.

I had to find out who r.z was. I haven’t found out much, but after finding their Instagram posts, and reading more of their poetry, because that is what it really is, I have found out that I am now their biggest fan.

Thank you #rzpoetry for such beautiful, at times heartbreaking truths that are for me, truly inspirational and emotive.

I am going to do my best to give myself the love I deserve. I may rack up many failed attempts, but I am going to try. I started today with lunch and look where it got me…. writing again.

Self-love … perfectly sorted.
Bron
x

Visuals and Poetry from @rzpoetry