How things evolve…

My bathtub has a leak.

My fucking bathtub, has a leak.

I had a story posted on a site last week and in the story I talk all about how I am going to go home and run a bath.  And so I go home and run a bath and all the water comes out from the bottom of the tub which is supposed to be sealed to the floor but obviously isn’t and now it is leaking and I cannot take a bath with my rosemary and my thyme and my rose petals and incense.  Also, it will be outrageously expensive to fix.

The last few months I toed the line of keeping this blog going and what it would become and be and mean because I am evolving, which means my writing must as well.  I’m doing less wandering these days, and perhaps a bit more digging at my soul.  It is so sad and dark and fragile there in certain places, where all the sharp and hurting bits become exposed.

For a long while I could not write amidst a wrestle with my insobriety.  You’d be amazed how dumbed down a brain becomes with liquor and one night I sat before my keyboard and I sobbed because I did not understand the words that I had written six months since.  It is incredible, and Hemingway was full of shit.  Of course, brain cells do not come back and I have burned through much of my allotment I am sure but now I want to expose the sad and broken bits and not keep them locked inside the liquor cabinet.  Even though they looked so pretty there–all the jars and bottles with the chunks of hair and skin and pigments of the eye.

After my uncle killed himself, my writing changed.  Again, it changed, as habits do when lives become upturned and shaken out and emptied on the ground then gathered back up again thrown back into the purse in different order.  Things I cared to write about before I simply do not any longer.  That’s okay.  Our species is meant to evolve.  Stagnancy is death.

After I was raped I wrote the story of it forty five times over and watched it grow less angry every time.  That was fucking beautiful, man.  To watch spite evolve into a certain peace with processing and time.  Took forever, though.  Still, that healing has become my greatest masterpiece.

This blog will become less about travel, and more about the vulnerable and ugly moments that define the truth of humanity.  That define our weakness, and the shocking compositions of our stories.  I am trying to work within the confines of compassion here.  I have an obligation to use the words for something good and greater, for healing.

That does not mean gentle.

But sometimes we must be firm in our demands for empathy.

Here is the link to the story all about my dog that died and how sad it is to sometimes be a human.

17 thoughts on “How things evolve…

  1. You are a talented writer, Shayleene. It sucks that you have had so much pain, but I wonder sometimes about what life throws at us is there for our growth? At least, it is a good illusion to cling to when things go off the rails in my life. I’m glad to read that you are distancing yourself from drink, which is hard, but realizing it only exacerbates the problems in exchange for a temporary reprieve is a biggest step. Wishing you peace, as always, and don’t stop writing. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Hard to read this. And I couldnt even make it to your dog. Soon, though.

    I don’t understand the world. Sometimes I hate men, being one who knows the awful truth about drives, dark dreams, all the things that make conquerors destroyers. My only real friends are women, the ones I know how to revere, or haven’t hurt (yet), or don’t really know.

    Their goodness is my fantasy of course. Were all in a mess together, but can pull each other up or out at times.

    For me (so given as I am to distractions, escapes, works) It’s hard to see my own good –not the obvious easy immediate acts but the deep potential taught by mothers, aunties, aging neighbors, and yes writers. I’ve learned from your writings. Grateful here.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Don’t hate anyone! Certainly, relationship is challenging and difficult, but if I am learning anything along this ride it is that we are all the victims and the perpetrators of one anothers’ stories. I know my words are hard–but to be honest, I think it’s terribly difficult being a human. And I think, as a society, we cringe and lean away from recognizing this. And that is incredibly wrong in consideration of our need to heal and grow together. And as for you, the fact that you continue to read and think and ponder (and therefore grow) speaks highly of your character. Keep at that loving. Grateful to have fellow wanderers like you ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Oh you strike me as a very strong lady . Just keep moving forward . One step one day at a time . I started off with my blog about family life and etc … but now I have noticed I have changed it a bit now that I’m a mother of two young adult kids I find myself reflecting on a lot about myself .. how much I’ve changed since I’ve had kids and now back to being me and taking care of me. So I have notice my blog has turned it to a lot of thoughts and letting them out on here. Hugs to you❤️

    Like

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