It is worth writing about sadness.
I am not very good at sadness. I'm not skilled at it.
- I can ignore it so fully that I truly that I don't know it is there.
- I can sense it and turn away, rush forward, DO something, instead of just being with it.
- I can suppress it so long that it becomes something else.
Mostly it's the fear that manifests.
But so it is with most things. It is our feeling of fear that bubbles up. That manifests. That reminds us, it's not all okay.
She comes to some in night times.
Me, she visits on hot, beautiful, clear sparkly days.
- Whispering to my friend that she couldn't nurse her baby.
- Whispering to my grandmother about her own death.
- Whispering to me about tomorrow.
But peeling. Ever deeper. Reaching below the fear to scratch and sniff and see, what's there?
This fear, it reminds me:
Hello, sadness on beautiful days.
Oh the shoulds.