Insignificantly Significant: A Poem

 

So how did my long journey to respect, affirmation, confirmation begin?

It must be found in the original kernel of truth

That I held in my heart.

Somewhere I believed I was precious and my presence mattered.

Through every moment’s pain and anguish, someone, directly or indirectly,

Must have touched me with love.

Maybe from a kind word, a warm touch, a validation of my inner self, 

From family, friends, even passing strangers 

In seemingly insignificant yet totally significant moments. 

For the longest of journeys since then, 

From birth to right now, 

I have trudged through indescribable pain

And countless losses, so great, 

That they have piled up too high

In infinite stacks

Then fallen repeatedly over, 

In complete disarray, 

Never looking to rise again.

And though I lost sight of me

And though I grieved for me

And though I was damaged and hurting, 

Still, I found me, once again

And that was the moment of healing, 

When love looked me in the eye 

And told me straight, 

That I was good enough,

Just as I am.

As it was before

 

The best we can hope for

It seems

Is a stillness of moment,

When the ravaging of disease ceases to capture, momentarily,

all available attention

And an inner peace

Surely not of the world,

Can triumph

And the blessing of love

Can be felt,

Amongst and amidst the torment.

This illness never leaves

Despite our best hopes

And yet...

And yet, we still hope and pray

Despite outward appearance

And inner destruction

That miracles will bless our lives

So that one day

We might walk free of it

And be together

In an absolute harmony

On every level

As it was before

So may it be again.

 

Prayer in despair

 

Lord

When life is unbearable

And illness and worries are overwhelming

Give us the gift of Hope

In a brighter future

Give us the healing we need

In the present moment

Lest we do give in

And despair.

Amen.

My Journey: a Poem

My journey from wellness to profound disability

Has been complete for many decades.

It has forced me to accept the frequent repeated emptying of myself,

Captured by paralysis that stultifies my physical life

As it steals away my most precious hopes and dreams.

Into this distorted self, this frozen, statuesque body,

I have found a sense of freedom to survive

And more than this, soar.

It feels like I am in a box, trapped within a box, trapped within a box…

The Russian Doll has nothing on me.

Despite the physical entrapment,

I feel strangely, internally semi-fluid.

Here I am a free poet, a deep thinker.

I touch the stars with my mind.

I am coalesced with the whole universe.

I am me in all purity of being.

No boundary here can stop my soul

From soaring with the stardust,

Across the midnight sky

Nor keep me from plunging into the deepest ocean,

Searching for sparkling treasure.

Here my creativity is unleashed,

My mind unfurled to float where it will.

The bizarre nature of my life continues,

Whilst I cling on to my essential being.

I choose life and all the freedom my spirit is.

There is a unique insight that comes

When literally no plans are possible to make,

For No direction is known or knowable.

The future is impossible to predict

Or channel in your own direction.

You are at the mercy of freedom, in it’s truest sense,

You live eternally in the now of the present moment.

It frees you from the expectations of others,

That would bind you away from your own unique presence.

Your life shines bigger, brighter, expands,

As you realise more of your self,

For that is all that is available to you.

Your life, your breathe, your environment

Becomes sharper, cleaner, more lovely.

Time is slowed.

Not knowing if you will be able move,

If you will be able to eat,

If you will be able to think

Or speak

Or remember

Or not,

If your pain will be off the scale

Or higher still than that,

You cannot be anything but present to yourself.

There is a certain freedom that comes from this,

For if you  float in a state of silent, unmoving, empty bliss,

Where nothing can bombard you,

Peace, strangely, comes to reside in you.

In the oddest of ways you become free to not worry,

For nothing is possible.

You cannot feel helpless

If you have forgotten all the things

That should have been, could have been

Or even definitely are important.

The smallest details come into focus;

The song of a lone robin, sitting high upon a tree top,

Trilling to its hearts content,

The gliding Red Kite’s beauty, soaring overhead,

Fills the vast, empty skies with its awesome grace.

The incredible discovery,

That a tiny red and black spotted ladybird is making a home

In a hollowed out stem

Fills you with unexpected happiness.

Stillness and beauty

Become everything you will ever need

The Revelation of the Heart of Love

 What is Reconciliation, Healing and Mercy?

These three things - Reconciliation, Healing and Mercy work together from the cross. They interweave. All our pain and suffering, hurt, injustice, is held in the Heart of Jesus Christ on the Cross, all pain felt by Him for all time. All is taken in upon Him, by Him, with God’s strength and Love invisibly holding Him. Instead of bitterness, anger, indignation, desire for revenge, Love is given back, Mercy is released into the whole world and its Healing becomes a possibility, if only it is received.

This is the revelation of the Heart of Love:

Christ on the Cross. 

The Father holding him in a circle of Love.

The Holy Spirit being released more fully into the world.

All three working together in unison, spreading Mercy, Love, Forgiveness, Healing, Reconciliation for all that is wrong: one Heart, Three Being in Oneness. The Heart of Love, pure, total, ever present, all encompassing healing Love.

What Can I Offer?

So what can I offer you

From my different perspective of the world?

From a place of frequent paralysis and empty-mindedness.

I can share my inner knowledge of being.

My world, so empty of business, 

becomes a place of waiting, seeking inner peace and understanding.

The things I know are hard won amidst the decades of intense suffering.

The emptiness of action, is replaced by the stillness of pure being.

Even when I cannot communicate,

Yet still I am:

A person, aware on the inside, unable to express who I am.

I need you trust that I am still there.

I am still me.

I am still thinking even if in a different way.

I still need you to know me, not to patronise or deny me.

Do not count inexpression as both an internal and an external loss.

Do not retreat into child-like conversation with me, as if I cannot understand.

Maybe I cannot fully follow every word, but maybe I can.

Trust and hope in that.

Believe still in my equality and respect me.

Be still with me.

Don’t busy yourself past me for want of an ability to find or understand me.

Believe and know that I am still here on the inside,

Longing to be seen, recognised, validated, attended to, cared for.

For I am peace among the ruins

And long to be seen for who I still am.

Comment:

Too many people still do not know how to relate to someone with communication difficulties. This is my attempt to remind people that inside you are still you, no matter the difficulty in expressing it.

Comments please

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