Posts Tagged ‘lifejourney’

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Seule, elle touche le vent

26 mars 2020

Par la fenêtre, elle touche le vent. La rue vide résonne de silence, de lumière. Pieds et fesses sur son assise, les bras autour des genoux, la tête penchée vers le haut et reposant contre la vitre de sa fenêtre ouverte.

Il faut chercher en étirant les yeux, un coin de ciel bleu vers lequel se perdre.

Il est six heure du matin, le monde immobile dort encore. En bas les trottoirs abandonnés, les fenêtres des immeubles désespérément désertées. L’humanité terrée… Chaque bruit rassure et étonne, interroge et met en alerte. Seuls, les uns entassés sur les autres à une distance nécessaire des autres.

En opposition à son corps enfermé dans ses maigres mètres carrés, son esprit se libère et s’évade.

L’odeur de l’herbe juste coupée, sa fraicheur un peu piquante sous les pieds. Les reflets sur l’eau et les péniches du canal admirées lors des ballades dominicales. L’odeurs des gaufres sucrées disponibles au coin de la rue… les conversations simples et spontanées dans l’ascenseur. Il faut se souvenir, faire l’exercice mental d’une normalité temporairement oubliée.

Elle se raccroche au bleu au-dessus d’elle et inspire… tant que tu respires, que tes poumons se gonflent et s’enivrent, que tu ne tousses pas et que les migraines restent invisibles et les allergies au loin, tant que les symptômes s’effacent, goût, odorat, alors tout va bien, je vais bien, on va tous s’en sortir, mentalement je rembobine, la dernière poignée de porte touchée, les boutons dans l’ascenseur, les lavages de mains et les désinfections au gel hydromachin, ai-je salué mon voisin d’assez loin… il faut décompter ses malades dont les noms s’empilent et encombrent son téléphone, valider le nombre de jours entre nous, la période d’incubation c’est combien déjà, la maladie dans la solitude, ça se gère comment?

Sur les réseaux il y a ceux qui s’affolent, ceux dont les memes prennent tout l’espace et ceux qui ne répondent plus, dont on ne sait s’ils restent pudiquement dans l’ombre ou si leur voix plus jamais ne s’élèveront. Son téléphone reste son dernier lien social, il la relie au monde comme un cordon ombilical oscillant entre réconfort et névrose, rompant la nuit, épuisant le jour, il faudrait le poser peut-être, retrouver l’instant et oser accepter l’attente.

Il faut gérer ses placards, « rationaliser les ressources » pour « optimiser ses sorties ». Entre courses virtuelles ou IRL l’obsession est la même, le risque de contamination par la boite de lentille devient une menace omniprésente, le contact avec l’autre est passé de convivial à dangereux, je reste loin de toi, tu restes loin de moi, la distance de toi vers moi, de moi vers toi, le risque qu’on s’entre-contamine, ne me croise pas et ne me touche pas.

Elle s’imprègne de bleu, par la fenêtre elle touche le vent. Paisiblement, elle ferme les yeux, s’apaise et respire.

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Inspiration

22 février 2020

Elle oublie le temps, avant demain, restent la chaleur du cœur qui bat contre elle, les secondes immobiles, les draps froissés en enveloppements. Il garde son bras dans un creux ondulant, respire sa nuque dégagée.

Le présent est simple. De leur abandon elle puise ses forces.

Le soleil voyage derrière les arbres du jardin qui lancent leurs feuilles en marionnettes d’ombres sur le mur, face à la fenêtre.

Leur réveil est immobile, attentif. A lui, elle, aux signes de retour des enfants. Il la serre doucement, elle grave en elle cette plénitude, ils inspirent.

Il faut malgré tout se lever, se déplier en lente inspiration, retrouver la pesanteur du présent. Elle dompte ses lourdes boucles sombres, ses bras en ballerine gracieuse précise s’agitent alors qu’elle arpente silencieusement leur chambre à la recherche de ses vêtements. Il s’installe à la fenêtre et vagabonde.

Il prolonge l’instant, elle retarde le retour au quotidien.

Des rires s’élèvent dans leur vaste cage d’escalier, traverse de l’entrée au jardin, une course furieuse s’engage sur la pelouse : il fait si chaud, se joue la guerre de l’eau.

Un dernier regard, ses pupilles aimantées au siennes et il s’élance pour les rejoindre. Transformé en général, il ordonne la troupe de leurs enfants et voisins, les embuscades s’organisent, les alliances se forment, un calme trompeur s’installe.

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Compass

8 octobre 2019

I had sworn we never would, but here we are, back in the same space together, trapped. Together and apart, breathing in in spite of ourselves, tied to the same fate like cursed Siamese, pulling in and away. Here I am, here you are, saving face, reluctantly running and standing still.

As long as your work is unfinished, as long as pathos gets in the way, your steps are retracing themselves in a repetitive and inescapable circle.

All I can is to watch you, I stand at the center like the point of a compass, only instead of pointing the way I have become an anchor.

If I close my eyes I will still know where you are – not very far, not really close, getting uselessly breathless.

My words are not welcome, I am not doing anything other than waiting, and yet, I am tired.

There should be a way forward. For both of us. By steadying you, have lost myself. Where is my path, the one that led me here – where are my choices? The wind of time and doubts has erased my past and thus I know not which way to face in order to find myself again.

Yet there is no despair, only hope and the certainty of a better way. I watch you running to exhaustion, pulling forward and shielding away. Waiting for the spark, the trigger that will derail you from his useless quests. A spark that is not I. Once you can fly away, where will I be?

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Letter from the Other Beyond

30 janvier 2017

From Darkness I have woken, an imperceptible sight all my body could muster, a breath. Amidst time’s interstice for centuries I laid, crushed under World’s Worries and Burdens, falling far and deeper in my own self’s oblivion, greyness and dust, as I welded myself in rock, my body my tomb crushing light and tomorrows, my other self a Timekeeper forcing me into healing nothingness.

A million puzzle pieces, and who am I.

A million tears and eternal sorrow as the Circle of Things retraces its own steps, two walls guarding its path on each side.
Words burning the sky and engraving my soul – everything has happened before and will happen again – are we condemned? Our angels grieve with poignant compassion and our soil cries her children’s blood… each and every time Humanity’s Nevermores became Oncemores, each and every mistake an atrocity.

I feel so tired. Why should I ever resurface.

Yet from Darkness I have woken, an imperceptible sight all my body could muster, a second breath. My body so heavy, I don’t have the strength. My eyes won’t open, I don’t want to see, I don’t want to move nor do I want to be. I will myself to Nothing or else my heart will break a million times again, should I let Reality be, World, you are exhausting me.
History tells us all, if only we were listening, but we keep on our ways, Arrogant Youth never parting from the Circle, religiously reenacting the same scenario and retracing human errors again and again.
Quiet the Worrier, shut up Cassandre, this time it will be different. I know.
Alas, aren’t we so small and insignificant, shouldn’t we be humbled.

It hurts. To breathe and to be alive. To hope and to risk everything.

How terrifying let your gard down to love and believe in others. And yet, what if we were to belong in a herd of journeyers, our steps joining an adjacent path creating new possibilities. Once upon a time, what if we weren’t hopeless. We may be nothing alone, but together wouldn’t we be an army guided with Knowledge and Light?

I can’t lay still for much longer now, a decision must be made.

If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality.
Desmond Tutu

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I mean you no harm

19 juillet 2016

I mean you no harm

As I walk the path

As I find my way

 

I mean you no harm

As I look back

And see others

Breathe where I exhaled

 

I mean you no harm

As I try, as I stumble,

As I preserve my light.

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After the long morrow

16 novembre 2015

The days have gone by one by one, faded dawns replacing it’s preceding sisters, each morrow so long and sad, a tern succession of blurred obligations fulfilled in a dizzy automated stance, any excuse being good enough, fears chasing time, filling every hour with noise because in stillness were thoughts, the cold harsh reality of things that are.

Because the dark had gone and light was too violent, because I needed the protections of shadows, of compromise, because I wasn’t strong enough to face today, because there is always the promise of the day after tomorrow.

And so, here we are.
What I did not know of your games, I could guess.
I know all your changing stories, all your conflicting truths, the cold calculation of your smile paired with your eyes lacking warmth, the deliberate choices that brought us where we were, where we are. I have fought the winds of flux, the unease of wanting to avoid the inevitable, I so desperately wanted to think that something redeemable lies dormant in everyone.
Isn’t everything about waking up.

There is no sadness, no pity, I do not hurt. I will not miss you.
It took a while before the curtain lifted high enough, before the light around me had so grown that I could not remain blind any longer. Even then… I was in no hurry to confront the chess game I knew existed beneath my feet, the arena at the center of which you had made me piece of.

Why doesn’t matter. I knew.

Because I didn’t want to see for so long, I enabled the slow  and inevitable erosion of my will, because I let it go once, then twice and thrice, because I didn’t take a stand, I locked myself in a pattern.

There is nothing in what you did to me that I didn’t let you do.

Until I was in tomorrow and the day after, until things could be no more. Until I let you go.
I thought the fire had gone, too, I felt so cold, I thought I would need to climb mountains to find myself again… I had lost faith in the sparkle that will always dance in my heart, in the love that my kindreds will always give to me unconditionally. In the gardians that look over my shoulder and protect me in the strangest of ways.

I am loved and I have worth, I didn’t need to manipulate or walk on anyone to get where I am: I do not have anything to prove, my path is walked on my own terms and today, I get to decide where I want to go, and who I will go there with.

Good bye you, all of you, my dark shadows, my drains, you who held power over me and missused it knowingly, you who thought you could make me into something I’m not.

I am me, I am free, and I’m definitely enjoying the ride.

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I have switched to the other side: it’s peaceful there

11 mai 2015

In the land of remembrance, there’s a song whispering in my ear. In the forgotten memories, there’s light, love, loss, tears, there’s life.

There’s a taste of bitter, sweet… today I know all the answers to yesterday’s angst, today I know to let go of the past and to look forward to the best from the future, yet all the while knowing that the worst may still come.

Let it be. I will survive.

Today there are regrets of things undone, of things unlived, today I can say that I should have ran, I should have escaladed barriers and jumped over cliffs. I still can, it’s not too late. Today I can look forward to tomorrow.

Today I know that there’s a true meaning to clichés, they didn’t create themselves out of thin air in someone’s overflowing’s imagination, clichés have their reasons to be and yes, we only have one life, so, what are you going to do with yours ?

There’s no point in looking back except for strength, in order to find the serenity to accept what cannot be changed, the courage to change what can be changed, and the wisdom to know the one from the other. We need to climb our own mountains; we have to tear down our private walls, and we shall overcome if we believe in ourselves.

 

We truly and always have held all the answers within ourselves.