Monday, January 16, 2012

Space and the awareness of Space. This is the basic message.




R.I.P.
Space
July 1  - December 31, 2011

The Bubble.
I was living in my own sweet bubble,
the last six months.
All my own,
all to myself.
I had quiet, no obligations,
nothing but time.

No meetings, 
no job, to business to tend.
Life got small,very small
and that was lovely.
The outside world
pushed away,
and I came into myself.

There was joy
and grounded happiness.
Everyone saw.
I saw.

I loved this time.
I had space to hear me, hear what I wanted.
It was horses. 
sniff, snort,
spook, shiver.
It's feeding time,
and they are frisky up at the gate,
waiting, thirty of them.

It's still the highlight of my week,
Tuesdays and Fridays, 2:30-5pm.
We (three) bring them in, one by one, from pasture.

They are so attentive to us,
watching our every move.
 Then they grow impatient, demanding their dinner.
River gets three flakes and 1 lb. of grain,
Mama just two.
Each one of them has a recipe.
Different, special.
 
Eddie is the biggest,
he scares me and it's thrilling.
My heart pounds next to him,
a dance of possibility,
he may try to shove me aside
to get into his pen,
anxious and urgent for food.
His thick dark black coat,
magical golden brown
undercoat and on his chin.
Like a bear.

I am grieving,
heartbroken.
The Space has officially completed.
I had to get a job.  Up I go again.
The mornings are killer.
So much to do.
Then I arrive, to work,
skidding in, just on time.
 
It's "just" 30 hours a week,
flexible,
yet so painful.
Now again I'm doing head work.
90% of the time on the computer.
Business Development.
I like my coworkers,
but working an 8 hour day?
For the dogs.  
Who can really be productive for 8 hours?

Am I complaining?
Actually, no.  Hear me
as I hear myself.
I am working,
working on balance.
I have full permission,
from my friend the Boss,
to create my hours as I like.
I'm can do whatever I want.

But all I want to do is be in session with a client.
In time, time, time.
Two years?
Everybody's gotta pay their bills.
And I'll pay mine.

Self-compassion
in this time of transition,
as I grieve the loss.
Letting it go.
Who understands?

3 comments:

  1. Anonymous1:29 AM

    It can be quite scary geting back to work after a lay off. I hope the new position works out, everyone benefits fron a little social intercource.

    Leigh

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  2. Dat be a might fine lookin' horse

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  3. Interesting. Out of curiosity, I googled "Space and the awareness of space. This is the basic message." And I landed on this page Helen. And it happens that I know you. I sat next to you in Dathun 2013! Another interesting thing is that your poem about the struggle and mixed emotions of returning to work is in contrast to where I find myself today. I was laid off this past Friday. A gift in a lump of coal, as one friend described it. Best wishes, Pat

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