Wednesday, 31 January 2018

Future Me








Under the blurred waxing of a blood moon, we are frowning, getting pestered with details, nothing so vital, just needing attention, but there’s not enough sleep for this nonsense.
Metaphorically one cannot step without finding a splinter in a sole, a bee in one’s hair, and the phone ringing and the hob on fire, and there’s no coffee.

There will be peace and quiet though, under that mess. I will find it. 
Might need help.

So I will meditate, I will take a guided meditation - I have a list and choose this one: Guidance From A Future Self. She will know about the mess and the peace.

So I am walking barefoot without splinters or thistles in an imaginary, familiar place, smelling warm salt air, fresh cut grass, to a bench where Future Me sits. I can’t see her clearly, she’s hazy, I like her presence, it seems wise.
How will I get to where you are? Is my question.
I don’t exist, she says, I only exist depending on what you do. I can’t help, it’s on you.
What?

Never mind, I wake up and there is coffee, treacle thick, and I take Dog to the real beach.

In come the waves, wild, strong.
Are you coming in or out? Is my question.
Stand still, says the froth, you’ll not see anything unless you still yourself.
Yes, I say, soothed, and go home to make soup.

Of course Future Me is hazy. I’m building her from sea foam.







11 comments:

  1. Beautiful. The moon is the perfect season for dreams and self discovery.

    And stillness. Such simple wisdom the sea foam speaks and yet so difficult.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you Taryn. The moon has been stunning this week, hasn't it? :-)

      Delete
  2. Lovely. Very strong opening with "blurred waxing of a blood moon." I also love how the normal parameters of time slip away in the presence of the sea. I've also visited with earlier and future versions of myself while at the shore.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. The sea is a mesmeriser, and on this occasion easier to get on with than myself :-)

      Delete
  3. Don't be in too big of a hurry to meet Future You. She'll be taking over your life so fast, you won't know what happened. One day, you're young... and the next, you're older than you ever expected to be in your youthful reveries about the future.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. True, but I was hoping she might be more pragmatic with her advice. Like, give me some winning lottery numbers, so I can get a bit of land :-)

      Delete
  4. When I get the jumps, I go see my hypnotherapist, who takes me on guided reverie to the ocean --aligns my breathing with breakers and exhalations with all that slides back into the sea. Had I your skill as a poet, Lisa, life might not have left my nerves shot, but I promise --as a young poet-- I will improve!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dear Young Poet, you hardly seem to need improvement, except maybe be a little less critical of yourself :-) Excellent choice of hypnotherapist! If I didn't live so close to the waves, I would need that too, I'm sure. xx

      Delete

Thank you for reading my words- my chance to read yours here: