Reflections

Clearwater Lake in the evening - June 14, 2016

I took this picture the evening of the last day of school. A friend had invited me to her camp, but something had come up and she didn't show. I sat on her dock alone, but not. I felt my body, my mind, my spirit just begin to relax. It had been a very full year with growth and heartache, emotion and discovery, and so much more. Though it was challenging, it was all good. I've known that a poem has been lurking within, but it didn't come until today:

 

Reflections

Tempestuous, trying times
are well over,
and mulling over the murkiness
has greatly enhanced my light.
More comfortable in wrapping my arms
around the bounty that surfaces
 as I explore the delightful depths,
my amenable heart continually heals.
Throttling down my active mind,
more often I experience the actuality
of life’s moments without apprehension.
My tender, sensitive spirit is
quenched and soothed by
coursing waters, caressing hillsides,
luminous clouds, and other sightings
of ubiquitous love.
I know there is more below the surface,
but I have the ability to twist the lens,
examine the reflections
and glean whatever
is needed from the
surges and swirls,
 eddies and calms,
 varied hues of grays.

I can allow myself to submerge

 in the sweet, subtle currents of
my true essence.

Sarah Carlson

July 4, 2016

Reflections

One of the many meanderings was this terrible feeling that kept nipping at me when I started to feel better, lighter. That being - I was gaining somehow from Barry's death. It was such a weird, scary feeling. It became important in many ways, one of which was that I remember really getting how important it was to simply say what was going on within me to someone I trusted. I think that's one of the hardest things about becoming a widow, being alone to process things. You just get so used to bouncing things off that person who knows you so well, for however many years you are together. And then there you are, in one of the most difficult situations of your life - totally without the very person who could help you get through. I remember sharing this uneasiness and simply saying it, getting it out of my head, was a relief. This quickly led to the fact that deep down I knew that Barry would want for me to move forward, to learn and grow, and that he was there cheering me on. It has been nice to think back to the time when I first had that realization. This poem was another step in moving ahead and taking what I had with Barry with me.

Reflections

Often I look in the mirror and I’m not sure just what I see.
Who is that?
Who is that, really?
A few times it was quite unsettling, scary in fact.
For a while I couldn’t even look in my own eyes.
Upon reflection, I now understand that for so long
he was my mirror, reflecting back to me what
he saw, what he cherished, what he loved
in me.
Lately when I have looked deeply
into my own eyes I have seen glimpses of good things,
have felt the hint of self-awareness,
of personal compassion,
of the ability to cherish me for me.
And that made me uneasy,
became an insidious burden to carry.
Images were becoming clear,
but something was still very wrong.
So I reflected again,
and there it was – the answer.
I thought I was becoming a better person
BECAUSE he had died,
that I was somehow gaining from his loss.
A horrible feeling,
that, when shared with a trusted friend,
became immediately diffused into another new learning.
An understanding that what I see in my own reflection
has always been there.
And now I am learning to recognize the self that he saw,
and mirrored back for so long.
I’m learning to know me.
And, upon reflection,
I think I like what I see.

Sarah Carlson

January 10, 2007