I hope you can begin to find your footing in a world which slants and skews as you try to move forward. There may be no more rhyme or reason to its shifting and slewing, no rhythm or cadence that can be anticipated for the great dance. It’s tempting then to want to shuffle slowly, to be cautious, and to try to hold onto something or someone to help you balance, but it all comes down to the core, really.
Once your center is solid, firmed, and defined then your sense of self can be the steadying force in your life, and each movement forward will grow in strength, and grace, and confidence. Until then, exercise your senses, your muscles, your mind, and your inner ear so that you can hear the flow of spirit and stay true to yourself.
Don’t be daunted by times past where you feel you might have wasted time or effort and let go of the feeling of having been robbed. Without violence, bring an awareness of your decisions to the forefront, and examine the pressures upon you rejecting any which do not align with what you want and with the direction you want to take your life.
Like a rudder, adjust in small smooth movements, and let the changes gradually move you in the right direction. Unless there is about to be a big crash, take back control of your life with quiet determination and a sense of responsibility.
I love how you are learning to be flexible and proactive. Try to find some good in every day and don’t give up on yourself.
Your sense of humor is a wondrous thing, and I’m sure you will find it gracing you again soon.
Try to be patient with yourself and others.
Until the next cup of coffee, be gentle and honest,
!00,000 Words Of Love – Wendy Kheiry
Category: Uncategorized
100,00 Words of Love (Excerpt Nov 7, 2023)
I’m so sorry that things have been so hard for you lately.
I know how hard it can be to focus on your goals when you feel like you are barely surviving.
I hope you know that I see you, when you struggle to find any purpose to your life.
Continue to keep your goals and activities private and work slowly and meticulously towards the goals you have set for yourself with writing, art, and music.
It is okay if the hits don’t hit, and if you feel awkward and bad at these things.
You are bad at them. You will only get better with continuing to apply your time and effort towards them in a way that is enjoyable as well as productive.
I know it’s a continuous challenge for you to try and remain hopeful when you feel your own place in the world is so fragile.
Things will get better eventually. I believe that for you.
My wish for you is that your mind can settle and focus, and that your heart will heal.
Do not abandon yourself even when it seems that others have abandoned you.
Cherish your life as best you can. Be silly and awkward and human. It’s a delicious combination.
Maybe you’re not worth the time and effort to be cared for – admit how high maintenance you are.
What if you are, though, valuable, and precious and funny and smart and kind and worthy of love?
Would you hide behind the lies of your youth about your worth or would you rather develop yourself and your skills so you can take a good kind of pride in yourself and your work.
Just for yourself. Just for you. Just because you can.
That seems more empowering and a better way to spend your time than moaning over things you can’t control.
Cultivate some discipline in your life – food, exercise, rest, good boundaries, and just focus in on being there for yourself every day.
Until the next cup of coffee, be free and strong,
!00,000 Words Of Love – Wendy Kheiry
Weeping For Abigail (poem – spoken)
Sunset certainly the sun glowed orange yellow pink
Near the lake by the huge weeping willow
Glinting lies rippling across the top of the water rustling
Now smooth
And it rained
Circles overlapping one another in impossibilities
It was always raining
The low clouds hugging the spirit in a damp uncomfortable grip
Meaty fingers digging into arms or thighs
Faint hint of juicy fruit gum and aquanet
I should pick better words for the sunset colors
What word is more pink than pink or that shade of orange which
Hovers and blends between the hot pink and the glowing yellow
Golden salmon peaches blues
And the dark dark water under the glinting
swallowing the colors
Until they shine palatable
The grey tabby brushes loose hairs against
Knee high socks
The design is lovely, not quite lace but pointelle
I want to pet her and I reach
The reprimand is as fast
I pet anyway
I belong to no one
Hissed rebukes and I will pay for it later
I would no matter what
Pets or no pets
The tabby and I are commiserating
There is too much noise and nodding and tight smiles
Grief stricken eyes but they don’t know the depth
And breadth of it
They think they weep for the person who died
That they weep for those of us left behind
But in the end I am sure
Everyone is weeping for Abigail
Look at her she purrs
Her fur is soft and gently striped
Her whiskers are white and stiff
A minister says he and she and they are with God now
And no longer in pain
The water glints
Are you sure about that
Why then do we weep for Abigail
If big Ned is no longer
And Sissy’s in the grave
And Aunt Delila’s coffin slowly lowered
And the dirt’s thrown down
A clod
Pad pad pad and a soft strike
Retracted claws and still there’s a snag
On a pointelle knee high sock
It’s grey too the socks
The corduroy dress, the thin kind not that
Ropey thick stuff
Shoes are tossed in a corner by a door
Wooden floors beg for sliding
Even as the dirt comes out in hushed whispers
No one is good enough to avoid speculation
Was it the pills or the heart
Had someone found out about a scandal
Was there a scandal
How scandalous that there’s nothing to speculate
Was he or she or they just boring and dull
And the sun is setting and setting and will never
Fall beyond the horizon and this is hell
This landscape of midwestern church clothes
And sensible shoes
And corduroy and tabby cats who speak in gestures
And rolling throat noises
Feet are sliding on the wooden floors and someone
Says stop that
And someone else says let her be she doesn’t understand
But we are all gathered together for ever
Weeping and weeping for Abigail
I’m sorry you are weeping too
I’m sorry no one escapes it
The Sun sets and the rain falls and the water
Absorbs more water and the circles overlap
And the weeping willow falls into the lake
Drowning
The earth has a gap now
A ripped up shredded space where a giant
Of motherly love once stood
The secret behind every tear drop
Is the how the blood of the tree flows
Without ceasing and everyone who has ever
Laid on the floor and cried
Or faced the ceiling as silent tears slide onto a pillow
Weeps for Abigail
All weeping for Abigail
And they don’t know it yet
But when they lie stiff in satin lined boxes
Wearing the nicest set of clothes they hated
Their spirit has finally understood what it means
Because the stocking covered feet no longer slide on the wooden floor
No one is there to pet the grey tabby
There’s no thighs or arms to pinch and grab
No laughter shouting crying out defiant
There is a ghost animating a body
Abigail is dead and they can’t see her until
They cross the veil
They know then they were always weeping for Abigail
They know then they were always Abigail
A ghost animating a body and not understanding
The glinting of light on the water
Or how sunset lasts forever
Or that it’s good to be notorious