“Nothing is more sad than the death of an illusion” ~ Arthur Koestler
His face was etched in my dream,
and it seemed like he waited for me.
Every night as I drifted into sleep,
he was there, eager for me to be in his realm.
His hand would reach for mine
and we would lose ourselves in a world
where time stood still,
where anything was possible,
where we could be together.
He was my forever.
But my forever changed,
seconds were altered,
and what once seemed like reality
slowly devolved into fantasy once again.
Where once he was my future,
he quickly became my past.
And in my last dream,
there was no hand to hold my hand.
His smile no longer reflected mine,
and my illusion of always
I have suffered with allergies since I was a child. My sensitivities are mostly environmental so they are certainly manageable. As a child I used to break out in hives when I ate strawberries but, I was as stubborn then as I am now so, I ate them anyway and eventually outgrew my reaction.
As I have matured into the person I am today, I am finding an increase in my hypersensitivity to certain things. The environmental allergies still plague me year-round but I have discovered lately that a broad spectrum of human emotion, compassion and empathy is having a strange effect on my eyes.
When I hear stories that touch my heart, the redness in my eyes is immediately evident. There is a small bit of swelling in the upper and lower eyelids and I am guessing my body creates tears to cleanse my eyes of the allergens. This “allergy” is becoming more and more prevalent. What was once just a susceptibility to dust, mold, grass and trees now encompasses impassioned stories, movies, television shows and even commercials. Seeing another human being cry is definitely the biggest trigger for this new onslaught of “allergic reactions” and once the tears are formed the next symptom of these “allergies” is a stuffed up nose.
I have battled allergies for years and these are the only ones I can say I actually don’t mind having. I have given up wishing I could control these allergic reactions in public. I’m sure seeing a few tears is easier for others to witness rather than a contorted face that looks uncomfortable and painful.
So, if you see me and it looks like I’ve been crying…..it’s just my allergies.
“What happened in the past that was painful has a great deal to do with what we are today.” ~ William Glasser
Looking back at my past, I can almost see the lines in the distance of the paths that I have chosen. They are faint in the waning light but the traces are still visible. Those lines, those roads I chose to follow, helped to carve the figure of the person I am now.
Along that road not everything was painful but I can say that those arduous moments gave me more definition as a person than the happier, less stressful times. Those darker moments made me a stronger version of myself. Those difficult stages during my life gave me the tenacity and the persistence to overcome obstacles that I may not have been able to cope with had my life been easier.
It is how we carry ourselves through the difficult moments that gives us our strength. It is how we persevere through misfortune that builds our character. I am who I am because of what I have experienced. I am a better version of the me I could have been because I endured pain and suffering. I made a point to learn from it and now my inner light far outweighs any of the darkness from my past.
I have a great friend who is sometimes is too smart for his own good. But his advice is sage, his common sense is welcomed and his support is evident. The combination of those things has recently led me to draft a couple of letters to companies that have been manufacturing the products I have been using for the venture I began for our local Food Bank.
I penned a few well-constructed emails today to let the companies know how integral their products have been to the success of our Freezer Crockpot meals. In a world so full of negativity, it’s nice to be able to spread a modicum of happiness. In those letters I did nothing more than tell the truth about how much of a difference this project has made to our small community and how much their product has helped with that success.
In a few short hours, I had my first email response. Nowhere in my email did I ask for anything but, after being so impressed with the project and inspired by our story, this company immediately offered to send us some complimentary products to “help continue our excellent work”.
For those of you who know me, or follow my blog on a regular basis, you will know that some tears were shed after I read that email. And I’m not completely sure if the tears were of pure joy because this company didn’t hesitate to help or because my friend was right….again. Regardless of their cause, my cheeks welcomed the emotion.
This Food Bank project has been a labor of love since the beginning and the more time I spend organizing, shopping and setting up the volunteers, the more I know this is not just a one-shot deal. This enterprise has become a part of my life, and one I hope to continue for a long time. And now that I know even more support is out there, more home-cooked meals will make it into deserving homes during their tough times.
“Time moves in one direction, memory in another.” ~ William Gibson
Nostalgia is a funny thing. When you least expect it, what began as a glimpse into your subconscious suddenly floods your senses and overwhelms you with thoughts of the past. It could be a song lyric, a smell or an old picture that triggers the trip down memory lane but, regardless of how the journey begins, the open road to your past looms behind and begs for you to follow it.
On occasion that journey can feel like you have stepped through a portal into the time-space continuum and have completely ensconced yourself in that moment so many years ago. You can visualize the wallpaper on the walls that no longer exist in reality but feel like they are an arm’s length away if you reached out to touch them. You can inhale fragrant scents and feel the presence of the person who used to wear that particular perfume or cologne. That one song can play and transport you back to the time and place you have associated so strongly with those lyrics.
That road that stretches behind us still waits for us whenever we feel the beckoning pull of sentimentality. Venturing down that protected surface serves to remind us where we’ve been but will always afford us the opportunity to turn around and forge ahead into the future.
Understanding and embracing those things from our past can only motivate us to continue. We carve the paths of our progressive journey knowing that the moments that have shaped us will always be there to remind us of where we have been and where we have since chosen to go.
Lost in a dream,
fleeting thoughts of you
take me to a place long ago,
where I’m lost in your eyes,
the way they used to look in to mine,
really seeing me, as you held me.
I become lost in your arms,
remembering the smell of your skin
and the taste of your kiss.
I fall, lost in your love,
never wanting to let go,
not wanting the dream to end.
But I awaken,
your face disappears but the memory lingers,
and now I feel lost again, without you.
Along with aging comes change…..in everything! Some of that change is welcomed, like a new sense of self and not being concerned with what others think. And some is not so well-received, like white hair, bags under the eyes and the digestive system constantly changing the rules for our metabolism on a daily basis.
I never had a care in the world when it came to food. I suffered no allergies. I was not a victim to food sensitivities. I had absolute freedom in my culinary world.
But something has drastically shifted over the last couple of years. I have heard of this phenomenon but never thought I would have become a statistic in this game of “what do we cut out of the daily diet today”. Choosing what to eat has become more like Russian Roulette. One misfire and that bullet of discomfort is going to rocket through my intestines.
I’ve been looking at the Paleo Diet and it seems to cut out all the components that could potentially cause inflammation or general malaise without necessarily cutting out the options for a very tasty selection of meals. I have already become the person who puts beets and turmeric in my breakfast smoothies, so I think I’ve pretty much taken the first step in admitting that I’m not the girl who is able to eat what she wants anymore. And that recipe in the photo looks delicious! Wish me luck…..I’m goin’ in.