Some of Mum


Squoze
by her love and always-there hand.

Hugged
like a hum.

All she was.
And all that she wasn’t.

I knit badly
and wear memories

like the jumpers she made.

Ill fitting,
and full of holes.

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5 thoughts on “Some of Mum

    • If you don’t mind, a totally unrelated question… When I’ve done some work (inner) and probable truths from the past reveal themselves through it, I’ve felt exhausted, and creatively as if my mind is lying fallow, as if tired out by the bumper crop it’s produced… Do you recognise any of that?

      • I don’t remember having that experience but it makes perfect sense. I’ve been doing this for 25 years now, and have become totally intimate with and accepting of the process….so much so that now it’s mostly fun for me. But consider this: Whatever age you are now, you have that many years of repressing painful truths behind you. And your brain is “etched” with pathways formed of these memories that can’t be erased or re-routed in a few months. Your body and mind have developed a lot of resistance and it’s enormously difficult to break all that down.

        I would urge you try meditating if you don’t already. Just sitting for 20 min. a day, noticing what comes up in your mind and accepting it all without rejecting or judging will train your mind and body to pay more attention and be less resistant. If you stick with this the old paths and habits will lose their power and your new attentiveness will translate into your waking life until you can stay in that place of awareness where see when the old ways are trying to worm their way in and can choose to maintain the non-judgmental awareness instead of giving in to them.

        This leaves you feeling refreshed instead of exhausted and releases your creativity. It’s pretty amazing, but it works. These days so-called “negative” dreams bring me just as much creative energy as “positive” ones, because I see them all as helpful and healing.

        I hope you’ll let me know if you try this and how it’s working for you.

        Blessings, my intrepid friend

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