Here and Now

Porcelain Her heart... imploding exploding there is no other way escape is merely an illusion but oh, how she tries less than a whisper into the darkness the shadows obscure certainty tiny fists clutching monstrous deceptions her heart holds it well Wide eyes  close  open close open as if made of porcelain a vacant, blinking doll The most beautiful treasures are veiled beneath harsh desert skies like a mirage resplendent and yet seemingly unreachable to love big is to get small and quiet until all you can hear is the truth Her heart... imploding exploding there is no other way Angela Minard 2016©

I am in a strange place in my life, and I'm not even sure if I have the ability to articulate it here.  Often the reason I write is to help me make better sense of not only this world, but my place within the confusion.  I haven't written here in a couple of weeks, and at first it was because I wasn't feeling well physically.  Of course, it is normal for that to carry over into not feeling well emotionally, but that sinking feeling of the blues can be terrifying for someone prone to depression and anxiety.  My yoga practice is how  I center myself, and how I reconnect physically and emotionally, but my body was too tired.  I easily fall into a self-critical thought pattern, and I decided that just because my physical practice was on hiatus, I could still meditate.  That would be my yoga practice... I still have so much to learn!  The problem with sitting in a silent meditation for me, with only my breath, is that I dissociate...