A Strong Man I Am Not

A strong man would feel weak in the still heat of the day, but Beloved is t that kind of man.  When it gets hot, he wilts and melts into a puddle of limp humanity.  That’s why I was up at the bluffs on my own.  There is something to knowing your limits, not that I would let Beloved know that.  It is akin to letting him know he is right.  Letting him know he is right makes me feel somewhat smaller in a way I’d rather not feel it.

So I was up on the bluffs on my own, imagining what it would have been like to walk with Beloved up here.  I’ve been a few times, feeling the wind blow in a variety of ways.  But I’ve made those walks alone because the heat is too much for Beloved, not to mention the sun.  The four-footed one isn’t permitted along this path and they check to ensure no dogs are on it.  They say it is to protect their natural wildlife and I can accept that.

The bluffs let you see only so far, despite how far you climb up them.  The land is very much a series of high places and deep valleys so you end up seeing only as far next night place.  The elders assure me that if I walk along the path which basically follows the jagged ridges, I will reach a place where it clears to a steep climb.  If I climb the sacred mountain, I will be able to see as far as the sky and the sea blend into one and I smaller than I could ever be.  

Each time I arrive on the bluffs, the winds swirling this way and that, I wonder what it would be like to take that journey.  I fear I waited too long to take that up taken trek.  Maybe, with the right magic of sorts, I will make that trek once.  The show back in town would go on regardless of where I go.  Beloved would wait, as he always does, for my return.  

He watches me walk off in cold dawns alone, knowing I am heading here, and no idea when I will return.  I’m sure the locals judge this behavior, both his and mine,  he will wait his turn so to speak, while I rush into things.  And I rush up to the bluffs, the swirling winds, and the passage of unnoticed time.

I never rush back.  I am not a strong man, and the still heat of the day hits me as I step back from the jagged edge to make my way to town.  I imagine myself oozing  down the path, slowly slipping and sliding down the path.  I will slip undectected  into the house so I can’t hear the “I told you so” in Beloved’s look.  Of course I don’t really ooze back.  I slowly make my way back, stopping for a refreshing drink and some local talk.  This way when I come throughthe doors  I am neither stumbling nor am I looking like a melted mass of myself.  Instead of the speech Beloved is waiting to deliver , he settles for asking me when I will learn to not do this to myself.  And I answer, with a smile, when I become a strong man! 


I hate having to check myself before I do anything.  It feels oppressive, unfair and wrong.  And yet I do.   Check myself.  I check myself before I comment on how I feel or mention if I’m doing something “normal”, or potential energy consuming.  There is no law, at least not one on the books, that says I need to do this.  But I do.  Because I have lupus.

Trying to get people to understand lupus can feel oppressive or unfair.  Because it takes up precious energy and uses emotions which take up energy and I have lupus.  So it’s oppressive in some way.  But I talk about it, I try to help people understand.  And I feel the weight of responsibility, which can be oppressed.

Trying to balance hanging out with friends, having a vacation and living with lupus can feel oppressive.  But I’m not dead.  I have a job, a life, love and such.  And now and then I feel almost like who I used to be.  So I do things I used to do.  And then feel guilty about this because I have lupus.  And that guilt is very oppressive.  I’m not sure if this again is a self imposed law, but I can’t seem to shake it.  I have guilt because I can do things I know other lupus patients can’t.  I have guilt because just when people sort of understand my lupus, I do something so normal that it’s like I’m saying my lupus isn’t that bad.  I have guilt because friends and loved ones have to deal with the rapid change of lupus and our plans.  And it’s all so oppressive and unfair.

So I check myself.  I edit my actions and words.  I edit my dreams and my choices and I feel the oppression of all of this as well as the weight of being sick.  It’s unfair to those in my life,because I am never able to be completely free.  It’s wrong because I want to be transparent, but I don’t want to create more worry.  So I check myself.  And it feels oppressive and I hate myself for knowing what I’m doing and still doing it.  And yes, I just checked myself again before sending this off.

Someone Was Wrong

Someone assured me that if I knew Beloved’s dark past, I would have never chosen to try and find the sun with him. Except Beloved doesn’t really have a dark past. Shadows for sure, but true darkness? No he lacks that. And I found the sun in him, in his radiance, and love.

Now to be sure, it is I who should have been the warning to him. For where he has shadows, I carry deep, dark ink spills. Those spills that threaten to black out the light and the fun. But also well earned from adventures of a past he can’t possible grasp. It isn’t for lack of trying on his part, but he simply has no reference. We grew up so completely differently.

Some times, when’s, when I’m with him, I wonder how it is that he is all the softness and light to my hard Darkness. How did he, who grew up in less than desirably conditions and less than what is considered poverty end up with the lightness and comfort? How is it that my soft landing place is this wonderful man who knows I don’t want someone to hold me, but to let me reach out to him when needed? How could someone be so wrong?

Oooh Fire

I love a good fire. In the right place, like a fireplace or a fire pit. I love to watch the flames dance and flicker. I love the light they cast. And when it’s cool, I enough the heat of a nice fire.

There is something to be said about the crackling sounds of wood in a fire. The smell of wood smoke as it hangs in the air, just a bit before disappearing into a memory. These are things that I love about fire.

I do not love fires that cause massive destruction or damage. I hate hearing of animals or people hurt by fires. I cannot imagine what it is to lose my house and home to something that seems so enjoyable in one sense become an enemy in another sense. I don’t think I could ever view even a small flickering flame the same way again.

I don’t understand, nor do I enjoy the wanton burning of refuse and whatever people can get their hands on for the sake of burning something because it’s the time to burn stuff. To me that just seems foolish and wrong. And yet there are groups of people who feel the urge to burn things and fight for their right to burn things. No matter the cost. Typically when these people get in the midst of a good fire, it’s some innocent person’s stuff that is destroyed. But hey, they got their fire.

And so today I’ve come to the conclusion that a good fire is not good for everyone.

Falling Shoes

You know that feeling, the feeling that something isn’t right somewhere in your world? Or that something bad is going to happen? Yeah I’ve had that feeling for a few days now.

I’m pretty sure the shoe will fall because in the end a shoe must always fall. The question is what type of shoe will it be. I’m hoping for a flip-flop. Flip-flops are light and therefore the whatever it is that goes wrong would be minor in this case.

With my luck the shoe that falls will be a work boot, a steel, reinforced work boot. I can still hope for a flip-flop instead. I suspect a stiletto dropping could be worse than a work boot. Think about it, stilettos have those thing, pointy type heels, the kind that can puncture and rip through. Imagine those kinds of horrors in your life. Or rather don’t because who wants that?

A friend told me that these feelings of things going wrong are just a trick of the mind. Others say it is a case of being in tune with the vibes of that beyond ourselves. Of course if you sit on these feelings like g enough, well reality is it isn’t always going to be sunshine and rainbows every day.

I guess though,if I believe the worst that will fall is a flip-flop it will be those lovely days of summer longer. Right? Right?