When my daughter was tiny I used to nap when she did since neither of us slept much at night. Our next door neighbour got a puppy and would put him out in the back yard on a lead at about the same time as we napped. He would bark the whole time. It was making me furious. I was exhausted and really needed the sleep. I'd asked the dog's owner several times to put him out at our off-nap times, but she didn't do it.
I was at my wits ends. I was so tired I was quite sure that a solid month of sleep and food and nothing else wouldn't be enough to regain any version of feeling awake and whole. Then I remembered a story about a violet, who, when stepped on responded by leaving a beautiful scent on the bottom of that person's foot. I was feeling pretty stepped on. I thought about how I too could be a violet. I made our neighbour a card using a wee footprint from my daughter as a picture on the front. She loved babies, including mine, and so I also included a photo of her. I wrote something like: I don't know when your birthday is, but please enjoy this card for today and all days, birthday or not. Then I signed it from my daughter and her mom. Then we walked over and put it in her mailbox.
The dog was never out at our nap times again.
Weak In. Weak Out.
With what do you feed yourself?
What passes from without
through your lips, eyes, ears and heart?
What nourishment fuels
the fires you build
the structures you errect
the words you set down
the touch you give
week in and week out?
From where comes your strength, your depth,
your care and your light?
open hearts and grief
aren’t built in a day.
They emerge in the chaotic order
of consuming the goodness on offer,
in amounts enough,
Or, let’s just put it this way:
White bread, coffee and bad news
fuel fluff, hype and fear.
Weak in. Weak out.
originally written April 2014
Nicole Marie Moen
Poems, stories, quotes and musings about beauty, mystery, humans and all life on earth.