emotions

Realm of sorrow

“Another call from the spiritual universe is to the realm of sorrow. We are not good for much until our hearts are broken. I know of no more pathetic object in time than a man or woman who has come to middle life, still heart-whole. It seems as if they had been overlooked or forgotten in the great curriculum of life.

“Sorrow cleanses our vision of misty humors, restores our spiritual myopia, so that we get a clear, long-range outlook upon the verities, the imperishable substances of the inner life.

“He has lived poorly who has come to mature years and has not been touched by world-pain; who has not heard the sighing and the groaning of the millions; who has not at least stepped back a little way into the awful shadow of the world’s spiritual sorrow; known something of its shame and agony for sin; its terrors of an avenging conscience; its fear of angry gods; its shivering dread in presence of an unknown eternity.

“Unless called now and then into the stillness and shadow of this common experience of sorrow, how would we ever be healed of our folly for the getting and having of things? What ministry of consolation and strength could we have among the sinful, the suffering, and the broken-hearted!”

—Rev. James H. Ecob, D.D. (1844–1921), “The Call of the Universe,” sermon, 1904

See me, hear me, I am fifty.

the world may see dried-up and irrelevant —
they may not even see me at all —

LOOK!  i’ve re-blossomed with beautiful new petals —
strength, focus, perspective, poetry, silver wisdom —

i am roaring out all that i have held in,
taken on, and put up with — for all my life —

i roar for myself and for all women
i roar at the top of my lungs with all my midlife rage —

LISTEN!  no longer can i do it all, nor do i want to —
i may be getting old, but also i am brand new —

Terri Guillemets

Half-breaths

Grieving is being
      at the bottom
      of quicksand
      trying to claw
      my way up —
because I need to breathe

When you died, my
      breath left with you
      my lungs, my life —
filled with half-breaths

I’m thankful for your life
is all that gets me through

Terri Guillemets

Keys to happiness

“The key to happiness is pretty much the same as the key to worry and anxiety — you must learn to make a big deal out of nothing.”

“The key to happiness? Simple really. You don’t let short-term concerns ruin your life, and you don’t let long-term concerns ruin your day.”

—Robert Brault, rbrault.blogspot.com

A thousand choices

Transform  FEAR  into —

curiosity, love, kindness, humor, hope, joy, knowledge, focus, laughter, awareness, wonder, willpower, wings, experience, faith, fervor, challenge, gratitude, encouragement, enlightenment, goodwill, action, learning, beginnings, opportunity, aim, determination, adventure, character, smiles, hard work, independence, letting go, peace, patience, perspective, calmness, confidence, effort, insight, energy, light, movement, living, overcoming, mindfulness, healing, grace, generosity, acceptance, reflection, remedies, truth-seeking, self-reliance, desire, fight, fortitude, freedom, intention, lessons, journeys, poise, positivity, art, poetry, singing, dancing, words, wisdom, wellness, trust, respect, compassion, affirmation, friendship, fun, fresh starts, stepping stones, goals, dreams, drive, duty, empathy, grit, cheer, excitement, apologies, forgiveness, plans, prayers, purpose, life, questions, answers, coping, daring, helping, morale, moxie, nerve, heart, guts, resolve, self-discipline, spirit, tenacity, understanding, research, enthusiasm, valor, caution, courage, boldness, ability, zeal, readiness, information, meditation, mettle, options, decisions, protest, change, education, volition, carpe diem, honesty, introspection, usefulness, appreciation, blessings, delight, dignity, hugs, deep breathing, doing, vantage, U-turns, exploration, growth, invitations, value, virtue, venture

Terri Guillemets

Fading out

syl·​la·​bles in my life
i cannot utter anymore
with the grace of youth
i stutter with freedom
and slur in wild love
words that once made
sense now are blind
faith doesn’t see and
hope rarely speaks
i’ve never needed you
to spell it out for me
the echo of emptiness
calls out like the sea
ebbing flowing waving
crashing shoring up
a million tear drops
whisper gently into
the gossamer of years
winds blow away our
comforts of home in
a smoke of memories
lost childhood remains
both here and gone
audible and sadly silent
echoes of those poems
voice words that sound
exactly the same but mean
something entirely different

Terri Guillemets