Now

There are no cue cards, there is no rule book.
I only have the bits and pieces of what I have
     learned from other people’s stories,
          from books or movies,
          from a class.
I have to write my own story,
     I have to figure this out for myself;
     I have to design my own plan.
I have to walk this journey in my own shoes,
     no one to guide me.
It’s like flexing a new muscle,
     developing a new skill;
     one I always knew I would have to learn,
     one you can’t really prepare for,
     something I knew lurked ahead but ...
          Now I have jumped off this cliff.
 
I come from a very productive-oriented life:
Work
Do
Solve
Fix
Make.
With producing things there is a sense that, if you just do it right, it will work.
     Put in the time, follow the directions, get the right tools, make it work;
     use your problem solving skills.
 
With this grief, there is no …
It is different;
     it is not a problem to be solved with my mind.
It takes time,
     but another kind of time.
Time to just be, to feel.
I almost have to get sick to slow down and feel,
     be with my memories.
This is a different kind of work;
     one I am not as good at.
It feels weird, ungrounded, unhinged, new.
This is where I can rely on what I have heard,
     what I have learned from others’ experiences:
     ​     This is normal.
I have to keep telling myself that.
It is ok to just sit.
In fact, it is necessary.

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