Slow Burn
Living gratefully today, I welcome the range of emotions that a typical day often brings. The range is safer than it used to be and I am more stable emotionally than I used to be. Balance as blessing.
The idea of slow burn has surfaced in both my thoughts and emotions several times in recent weeks. I have ongoing anger on slow burn--mostly directed at cancer and COVID-19 pandemic circumstances. The burn has boiled up a couple of times and one I handled better than the other. Venting with a trusted friend went better than denial of exhaustion that then turned into "bitchy tired."
This slow burn hasn't been extinguished and probably won't be anytime soon. Better to be directed at circumstances outside of me than shortcomings within me. That "not good enough" slow burn has become a more gentle and controlled fire. Worthiness warms me instead of harsh self-criticism blistering me.
We had some trees trimmed a couple of weeks ago and were left with a sizable pile of kindling, twigs, and branches. We have had several fires and worked our way through some of the pile. I have enjoyed those fires . . . I find peace and relaxation in the flames and the progress a controlled burn can make. Get it going strong and hot, feed it so it can eat, then let it simmer for hours. It seems there's an emotional analogy there, but I haven't landed on it yet.
And I conclude with the slow burn that I find the most comforting. The slow burn that is the writer within. The ideas that develop gradually and then flow smoothly; in a poem, a post, a note. The transformation that makes itself known in my words before my heart and mind have been able to arrive at the same place.
The slow burn of the writer within continues. Neither anger or unworthiness have extinguished it and it burns steadier than ever. For that, I am deeply grateful.
The idea of slow burn has surfaced in both my thoughts and emotions several times in recent weeks. I have ongoing anger on slow burn--mostly directed at cancer and COVID-19 pandemic circumstances. The burn has boiled up a couple of times and one I handled better than the other. Venting with a trusted friend went better than denial of exhaustion that then turned into "bitchy tired."
This slow burn hasn't been extinguished and probably won't be anytime soon. Better to be directed at circumstances outside of me than shortcomings within me. That "not good enough" slow burn has become a more gentle and controlled fire. Worthiness warms me instead of harsh self-criticism blistering me.
We had some trees trimmed a couple of weeks ago and were left with a sizable pile of kindling, twigs, and branches. We have had several fires and worked our way through some of the pile. I have enjoyed those fires . . . I find peace and relaxation in the flames and the progress a controlled burn can make. Get it going strong and hot, feed it so it can eat, then let it simmer for hours. It seems there's an emotional analogy there, but I haven't landed on it yet.
And I conclude with the slow burn that I find the most comforting. The slow burn that is the writer within. The ideas that develop gradually and then flow smoothly; in a poem, a post, a note. The transformation that makes itself known in my words before my heart and mind have been able to arrive at the same place.
The slow burn of the writer within continues. Neither anger or unworthiness have extinguished it and it burns steadier than ever. For that, I am deeply grateful.
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