My Soul is Weary

Can we just take a break for a minute? Press pause. My heart hurts and my soul is weary. I need a moment. 

Pandemics and politics and war. Oh my! 

The price of gas. 

The price of oil. 

Wear a mask. 

Unmask our children. 

Get vaccinated. Or don't. 

Get a booster. Or not. 

Numbers are rising. People are dying. 

It's all a scam. A plot! 

Stay home. Get your work done. 

Get tested. Bring your vaccine card. 

Close the border. Open the border. 

Protest!

This means war. Say a prayer. 

Black lives matter. All lives matter. 

Police brutality. White privilege. 

Ban abortions. Women get to choose. 

Pronouns and deadnames.

Watch the news. Fact check everything. 

Tip your server. Raise minimum wage. 

A war on drugs. Legalize weed. 

Kill shelters. Rescue a pet. 

Straws kill turtles. 

Save the whales. 

Don't pollute. Pick up trash. 

Paper or plastic. 

Save the environment.  

Stay connected.  Put down your device.

It never ends. 

It is exhausting. 

I'd do the right thing, if only I could figure out what that is. 

On top of that, there are car accidents and cancer diagnoses. There is infertility and miscarriages. Death and divorce. Homelessness. Unemployment. People get raped. Children get beaten. Substance use swallows families whole. 

For some people just making it through the day takes every bit of strength they have got. 

Can we take a break, just for a minute?

Can we turn off the TV, put down our device and sit in silence? 

Can we take a deep breath? 

Can we rock a baby? 

Or hug a friend? 

Can we go for a walk in the woods holding hands? 

Can we sit in the sun and listen to the birds?

Can we be still and drink a cup of tea? 

Can we just breathe for a minute? 

Can we put down our fear for a moment?

Can we suspend judgement? 

Can we hold each other gently and extend compassion? 

My heart hurts. 

My soul is weary. 

Let's just stop for a moment and rest. 

I Thought We Had More Time

There is a screaming in my head that won't stop. "I thought we had more time." It flaps and flutters round and round, like a bird trapped in a room banging against walls and windows until it collapses exhausted in a trembling heap. 

Sometimes life comes at you hard.  Friends die. Children get sick. Teenagers crash their car in the night. There are work deadlines, school deadlines, house chores. Someone always demanding just a little bit more. Stretching you to your limit. Move faster. Do more.  And then a kitten dies.  

Sometimes, for no good reason, a kitten dies. Or a friend. Or a child. Or a spouse. Sometimes, life ends when you don't want it to, when you weren't ready. And the screaming in my head says "but I thought we had more time." 

A tiny kitten, that is soft and rumbles when you pet it, that doesn't feel like death, like endings. It feels like love.  It feels like hope. You stand, there while the vet says "sometimes this happens, for no reason." Followed by "there's nothing more we can do." Then you hold a warm, soft, purring body, while also holding your crying daughter and the screaming beats inside my head "but I thought we had more time."

You go about your day. You do the right thing. You plaster a smile on your face. Check the boxes. Meet the deadlines. Cook the dinner. Here, there and everywhere. Everyone taking their little piece of me. 

Inside my head, the screams don't stop, fluttering and banging, round and round. Until I collapse in a trembling heap, exhausted. I hold a purring kitten while tears roll down my face. 

"I thought we had more time!"