Tag Archives: Peace

“Angel’s Wings”

For the brave men and women who work to find peace, beauty, and growth through chronic illness. This poem is for you.

~The Foda

Angel’s Wings

 The sky is a milky bath of cerulean haze

Speckled by clouds that spot the sky like dappled elephants

Majestic grace and weightless heft

I lie on my back

Knocked down by happenstance

Cynicism and doubt crawl over me like ladybugs

Unaware of their intrusion

I let the world rock me back into the earth

Tiny prickles of grass crosshatch at my nape

There is no more I can do

I surrender to the liberation

That cannot come from me

So I lie

And breathe

When a bath of white light surrounds me

Filling my core with nothing

And everything

And suddenly I feel it

My ribs open wide

Then close

Fanning gently with the breath

Until the weathered bone transforms into white wings

Feathered and soft

Unfurling majestically from my beaten chest

Helping my injured spirit

Soar up

On angel’s wings

Without ever leaving the earth

Episode XXX: Sitting in the Stillness

Episode XXX:

Sitting in the Stillness

 Today’s Words of Wisdom:

“Life with chronic illness is like a refrigerator. We take for granted the quiet hum until the power goes out and find that silence is louder than any sound.”

~ The Female Yoda

 The Foda’s Take: You like that quote? Huh? Huh? Aww, shucks! Thanks, guys!

 Peace. We all want it, we all look for ways to get it. It’s a billion dollar market, flooded with thousands of gurus claiming to have found the answer of how to obtain it, like a carton of milk you can purchase at the store. Yoga. Meditation. Mantras. Reflection. WWJD. Pick one, they all lead to the same place. But personally, I don’t think it’s that easy. (Finding peace, that is… not buying milk. Strong bones, kids!)

So today at around 4 o’clock, I stopped. Stopped writing, stopped creating, stopped cleansing my mental and physical space. Why? Because I was as fried as a popper from Long John Silver’s, that’s why. And when I stopped, I wondered why I had felt the need to continue on, why I hadn’t stopped when the glassy eyed lady first began to feel like her brain was full of melons instead of a medulla oblongata. Within five seconds of sitting still, I had my answer.

It’s because sometimes sitting still is the hardest thing to do. Why? Because there’s nowhere to hide.

You see, I’ve always been a person for whom purpose holds a huge role in my daily life. If I don’t feel like I have a clear purpose for my life, my day, my being somewhere, it’s very hard for me to feel at peace. But the irony is that this need for purpose, for knowing without a shadow of a doubt that my existence matters is the very thing that sometimes pushes me past my Lyme limitations (Lyme-i-tations??!!) until my brain’s as fried as a chinese noodle. (Can you tell I’m hungry as I write this? Sigh. Totally miss gluten.)

Anyway. I was there, sitting with brow furrowed, watching the beautiful sunshine drench the slowly budding trees outside my living room window, feeling… uneasy. The stillness was just too still. But I forced myself to sit in it. (Well, at least for five minutes. Then I got inspired to write this post. But, hey, I mean, five minutes totally counts.) Because I knew that sometimes we need to let go of the crutch, the escape, the easiness of throwing our minds into other things when our lives get tough. Don’t get me wrong, this is a very healthy thing to do- it helps us to stay positive and not wallow in despair. But it, like all things, has its limits before it tips the balance and becomes more stressful than beneficial. And I have always been an extremist. So guess what I tend to do? You are so SMART!! Gold star. Riiiiiippp! <Pat, pat> 

So today, I will sit, letting the uncomfortable stillness seep into my pores, reminding me of all the things I’ve lost, and all the things I’ve accomplished, and all the things I dream yet to do. It’s not always easy to let this in. Peace can be quite elusive. But in today’s technologically savvy society, I ask you- when was the last time you sat, just sat, with no TV, no phone, no computer, no nothing, and just… listened?

Maybe you’ll hear a truth you’ve been trying to avoid. Maybe you’ll feel happy getting to just let go for a minute. Maybe you’ll hear my stomach growling. But whatever it is, it’s valuable. Even when it’s hard to do. (My stomach growls very tunefully, just in case you were wondering… you know, why that would be valuable… to you…)

Try it. Be Still.

Shhhhh. No talking.

<Grumble, grumble>

Quiet, you!

Sigh. Just make sure you don’t try this on an empty stomach, folks.

Sincerely yours,

The Foda

<Grumble, grumble>