Hope Writer Challenge - Restore

Today's prompt for the @hopewriters writing challenge is Restore. #hopewriterlife

I cannot tell you how words and stories may restore other people. I can only speak to my experience. I can only tell you what words do for me.

Sometimes the world is too much and the messages of doubt and fear and inadequacy overwhelm me. They begin to reinforce those intensely negative thoughts my inner critic tells me when I'm not paying too much attention. This inter critic is insidious, it won't engage when I answer back with logic because it knows it has nothing to say.

But it whispers dark fears in my ear when I am not on my guard. And sometimes it's blows land and I'm left reeling, wondering if it's right. That is the moment words are the most critical. I have to find the right ones to join my cause. Recruit the write poetry and friends to stand with me as I prepare for battle.
And for me, I must always do battle on paper. I must write.

You see, the critic thrives on emotion and in the dark corners of your mind where logic can't illuminate it and it can loom shadowy and unopposed. If I drag that inter critic into the light and put it on paper it doesn't stand a chance. The arguments don't hold up. Spoken in dark whispers, "you are worthless" or "you're unnecessary" can be weighty and can coil around you and feel inescapable. Such sentiments prey upon your emotions.

When you put those critiques on paper and engage with the ideas, it takes a little of the weight and sting out of them. So for every dark emotional thought that I'm worthless, that I'll never be a writer and my work is rubbish, that I'm a terrible person (the worst in fact); I make the effort to find at least one argument against them. I do help people and many people rely on me for support. I am capable of many things. And even if I wasn't, every human has worth. I may not be published yet, but I'm not quitting. I am a writer and no writer is perfect, that's what drafts and editing are for. I'm not a terrible person. I'm certainly not the worst ever. Historical examples of worse people abound. And I do what I can. I'm only human but I'm not a bad one. I'm kind of a decent person actually.

Just like that the tide of emotional darkness turns. In the battle for my mind, I drag my opponents into the light and expose their poison and trickery. I defeat them with carefully planned logic and words. Healthier words, truer words, more positive words.

Half the battle is knowing that you're in it and the other half is perseverance. You do not restore yourself in an instant with a flick of your wrist like magic. Restoration is a process, a journey, a series of determined actions.

For me it is important to change the story whenever I feel overwhelmed and belittled. If I feel obligated to attend a party that will be challenging for me because certain attendees make me feel small; I change the story. I look at myself and say "you have a choice. You are choosing to attend this party because you are larger than fear. You are the Queen and you have magnanimously decided to allow your enemies to attend. Pay them no attention." I might still be anxious, but making a conscious choice to turn the story around makes me feel less trapped by circumstances. I feel less small.

Remember that your life is greatly shaped and altered by the story you craft for yourself. Do not let it be created entirely by the critic who's views are false. Make sure you combat it with truth and hope. If you struggle to find the right words, augment your story with poetry that touches your soul. You can borrow someone else's words to help lift your wings.

You are the hero of your own story. No, you cannot change what has come before but you always have a chance to decide what happens next. You can pick yourself up and go about the important process of restoring yourself, put yourself back together with hope, words and perseverance.

So find good words. 

Find great words. 

Write your own words and don't ever accept defeat. 

Imagine a better future and fight for it.

On the Beauty of Showers

Sometimes a person just needs a shower.  Maybe you need a nice long shower because your family can get on your nerves but they can't follow you in the shower.  Or maybe it's because warm water just makes everything better.  Or maybe it's really just that you feel antsy because you really desperately need to feel clean.

Whatever, the reason, sometimes you just need a shower.  It refreshes you, cleans you and somehow freshens your mind and attitude.  Sometimes, after a long day of gardening, being slobbered on by dogs and arguing with your family you just need to hop in the shower and clean yourself off and start all over.

It's remarkable how many ailments can be cured by a shower.

• Headaches - cured
• That crawly feeling you get if you saw a spider too close to you but can't see it anymore - cured
• Dry eyes- cured
• The feeling of being encased in slime after a particularly slobbery dog kiss - cured
• Dry cough - cured (well at least temporarily) 
• The "my hands will never be the same again" because I've been gardening all day feeling - cured
• If you have a cold and your head is stuffed up - temporary cure
• The "ugh I'm disgusting I can't go anywhere" feeling induced by dirt and dirty hair - cured
• Exhaustion - cured (at least long enough to make and consume dinner before slowly melting into bed)
• "I just got a haircut" itchiness - cured
• Early morning "I hate the world because it's too early" syndrome - almost cured (and that's saying something)
• Exercising is the worst thing ever I'll never do it again feeling - cured (again impressive)
• The sand and salt from my beach trip is weighing me down feeling - cured
• Feeling too cold - cured
• Muscle soreness - cured
• The feeling of being encrusted with a sparkly skin disease a.k.a. glitter - cured
• The "I'm too old for this ****" feeling - cured

Ok, so they aren't really a list of ailments.  But look at how many feelings that masquerade as ailments can be cured by a simple shower.  Really, showers might be the best. 

Ok, lauding of showers complete.  I'm going to go take one and cure my malaise.  

The Importance of Art

Purple flower as found in one of Geneva's parks two Easters ago.

Art, true art, is possibly the most important thing in the world.  Cicero once defended it in a lengthy speech and while I am not a huge fan of Cicero I have to agree with him that art is important.  You see, I believe that no matter how bad things get, no matter how sad you are, no matter how hard it is to carry on carrying on, if you listen to a beautiful song, look at a beautiful picture and read a beautiful story a little piece of your soul will be restored.

I myself have been having a rough time the last few weeks and I have decided to combat this with art.  I go through pinterest and pin all the pretty things I find.  I marvel at nature and absorb the splendid colours and get lost in the beauty of places I long to visit.  It reminds me that there is more to see in this world and it inspires me to start planning to see it.

Looking at things like this calms me down.   And doesn't this just feel all peaceful?

Then I listen to some beautiful songs.  Some of them have no words, they just are.  They perfectly express how I feel and sometimes they bring tears to my eyes that I have been suppressing for too long.  Some of these songs have words and it reminds me that I am not alone.  Other people have felt my pain.  It makes me feel connected to the human race again, and just the smallest bit more alive.  Sadness is also part of life.

Then I read a beautiful story.  And like all good stories it transports me out of my world for just a moment.  It makes me feel different things and think about different problems.  It makes me curious about what comes next and it reminds that there is hope.  Even the saddest stories can have a good ending.  Life is not static.  Whatever it is that is bothering you now and dragging you down cannot last forever.  It too will pass.  Hold on for that brighter future.

Life without art would truly be a sad place.  For how else are we meant to express those inexpressible things, those deep inner feelings and thoughts, those terribly important and weighty truths of life?  Without art in the world I think I would be truly lost.

For the Broken Ones

There are some times when words just fail.  When words are stripped away and you are left with nothing.  Nothing but raw emotion.  There are times and situations when raw emotion is the only thing you can offer and even that is not enough.  It is not enough to comfort, it is not enough to deal, it is simply not enough.

Sunset over Leeds rooftops

Sometimes the world strikes you such a blow that you reel backwards in shock.  And the world suddenly goes in slow motion.  Time seems to have no relevance.  It's hard to describe unless you have been there and felt it.  Perhaps the best illustration is the way that stubbing your toe really hard can make you breathless, speechless, and literally stuck out of time for a few seconds with pain.  Only it's a poor analogy because instead of physical pain, it is raw emotion that is so intense that it almost consumes you, so intense that it actually physically hurts as well.  Milliseconds can seem like hours.  Time passes but it means nothing to you because you are so utterly consumed by the emotions that are tearing you up inside.  How could any mundane routine possibly matter after what has just happened?

Lamplight on a street in Leeds

Unless you've been in that place it may seem weird to you to think of drowning in emotions.  But you really can.  Anyone who has dealt with grief, abandonment, or any sort of real loss could tell you.  It really is like its own form of drowning.  Your eyes fill up with water and cloud your view of anything happening in the world around you.  You choke on tears and emotions.  It is actually difficult to breathe with the weight of the swirling emotions around you.  If breathing is difficult, carrying on with mundane tasks is nearly impossible.  Walking seems harder, slower.  Your legs, all of you, feel as though they are made of lead, and you cannot swim or slosh through the thick mud.  You feel smaller and colder and more alone.  Everything seems pointless.

Sometimes you just want to scream and make everyone stop what they're doing, and sometimes you just need a quiet corner to cry in unwatched.  How does the world carry on like nothing has changed when your whole world has shattered?  The world should stop with you, to witness this shattering.  Everybody and everything should just pause for a moment the way you need to pause and learn how to breathe again.  How can they not?  Why don't they care?  How can they not see the world the way you do with all these new priorities and heightened sensibilities?  What does it matter if the shirts are ironed, or dance class starts at precisely eight?  How can they think of such trivial things when the world is shattering?  It doesn't seem right that everything should be different but nobody else even seems to notice. 

You are angry, and heartbroken, overwhelmed and confused, hurt and lost, and sad.  So sad it hurts.  You feel empty, and sad, and scared by turn and then sometimes, inexplicably, you feel nothing.  And you don't know how to cope with it and there are no words to deal with it, but part of you desperately wants someone to come along with words that make everything make sense and feel better.  I know.  I've been there.  And I wish I could offer you the words that you long for, the words that make everything make sense and bring you peace, but I can't.  I can tell you that it gets better.  Slowly, it gets better.  Very slowly my faith saved me from drowning once.  That isn't to say that I wasn't mad at God.  I was.  I was angry for a long time.  But he was patient and slowly restored bits of me with small but important realizations of beauty.

Rainy night-time street in Leeds

I learned perhaps the most important lesson of my life when I learned the beauty of life.  I learned to appreciate how precious it is.  How short, how sweet, how precious it is.  I learned how important it is to cherish people you love and truly appreciate every moment you have with them.  You must live as though each moment may be your last for you never know what the future holds.  It was the most painful lesson I've ever learned and also the most beautiful.

I began to appreciate the people in my life more.  I listened better, was more patient.  I was there for them and they were there for me.  And slowly I began to see beauty other places too.  I saw it in sunsets, and rain-drops that clung like jewels onto tiny tree branches.  I began to appreciate little moments and see little things that other people rushed passed.  And slowly, oh so slowly, I was restored.  I no longer felt like I was drowning.

Sunset over Leeds

The anger and the pain slowly faded.  The pain never really goes away.  It just subsides into a dull ache that is finally small enough to live with.  Some stories, movies or situations can bring back twinges of pain again.  Sometimes it is a song or a phrase that takes you back.  There is always a little bit of it with you.  But I've learned to accept that too.  Because we are all broken in our own ways.  And if the pain truly went away we wouldn't have the same compassion for one another.  It is what makes us real and human.  It is what gives us empathy and understanding and makes us better people. 

I can't make sense of it all for you, or take away the pain.  But I can promise you that it gets better with time.  So hold on, dear broken one.  Search for the little things that you can appreciate now, a kind word, a warm hug.  And slowly, you will start to see the beauty around you until you are restored.  Just hold on.