Pots of gold
shredding my consciousness
unstable, inimitable
Why?
Job couldn't say
More distorted dreams
suffering in a hospital
wondering what it all means
Simply existing
vomiting rainbows
from my hospital cell
No recollection of where I came from
What is my purpose?
Who can know
At the end of the rainbow we can find gold, or so the myth says. Moving through our pain to find gold at the end of the rainbow is something most of us can do. However, is it easy? No, it is not easy. Meditating for weeks at a time will only render you somewhat closer to overcoming your trauma. If you are big backed in the trauma buffet, it sucks to see that you are unable to stop eating the food, reliving your trauma and becoming bigger each time.
The appeal of a rainbow shines brightly in our mind, we don't want to take our mind off the rainbow at any time because of the fascination we have with the colors. However, it is only through ignoring the rainbow that we can become comfortable in our own skins. Chasing the end of a rainbow is the true experience. Ignoring something that catches our attention and begs to be replayed in our mind's eye for something greater that doesn't exist at the end of the rainbow is the meaning of recovery. We can't see the legendary pot of gold, the pot of gold has never been proven to exist, at least in our minds. We need to see the legendary pot of gold for what it is but we can never be sure of it's existence. When we make it to the pot of gold, will we be a different person?
I think when you reach a pot of gold, you stay the same person. However, your perspective shifts and you are given a new lease on life. In a sense it is a form of rebirth, like a phoenix rising from ashes.
🍯
Hello,
I dream of a safer future. As I looked at the kids crowded together in the local pride event, person-sized pride flags hanging on their shoulders, cascading down their backs, I think to myself how safe one of them looks. They look so carefree, safe, without a care in the world. I hold back tears because they feel safe, a dream that many of us had for kids and our own children.
A dream that is mostly ignored at this time by some. The dream that one day our love and relationships would be considered as valid as those of the heterosexual majority. As a bi woman I feel like things are so complicated now. Being able to pass as a straight person makes loving so complicated. I wish sometimes that it was more straightforward and I was just simply someone who went one way or the other. Just the simplicity of one gender.
Sometimes I want to disappear into a sea of similar folks. The delusion that a normal exists is a powerful one. I feel so sad that I chose a man and at the same time, this man is the only one I could ever choose. I feel like being queer is not something you choose, but you can choose to some extent whether you act on your feelings. I sometimes reminisce about what made me fall in love with my husband. I really do prefer women but in some way or other my husband has succeeded in capturing the flighty sparrow of my heart.
Our love reminds me of those poems where the writer says, "somewhere along the way, I realized that it was this person all along." Just a casual friendship that somehow developed into something more. I am so happy to be able to love. Simply being able to love is a miracle.
Living in the US, the sunset of our current times looms over lgbt culture and history. The sad thing is that none of us asked for this impossible conundrum. None of us asked to choose between who we love and a normal, stable, life. Noone asked for the decision that when made will stab us with a thousand thorns.
Life is so ephemeral and it's not worth fighting over.
Life is so ethereal and I will lose myself in my own love.
One is obviously more real to those of us privileged to know.
Living in the world as a bi person, we straddle the line between both options and knowing these two options exist inextricably complicates the decision of our relationship partner. Regardless of how you are, I hope that someday we can live in a world where noone is forced to choose, where lgbt acceptance is a as simple as peanut butter sliding over a piece of bread. All we need is the jelly (our love) to make this sandwich complete.
