now

Yesterday was hard.

Now is easier.

Why? 

I can't explain in detail. I can tell you yesterday felt like being cut with glass in the same place more than once --the pain of more and more pain, & the anguish of thinking it won't stop. The knowledge that I broke the glass made it worse. 

Now feels clear. It feels tender, but clear.

I spoke with a friend, who offered comfort. I won't go into details about that, but thank you, Melissa, for that hour and a half of your life. You know what it meant.

And last night, beginning at 12:01 AM PST, I began reading a book my friend Melina sent me as a surprise some months ago called The Poetry of Impermanence, Mindfulness, and Joy (edited by John Brehm). I finished around 1:40 AM. Maybe it was the sleepless fugue, but it helped. 

It is a collection of poems that deal with those themes (impermanence, mindfulness and joy), with works by poets heavily influenced by Buddhist thought and beliefs. It was a relief to end with joy, and the joy poems were small and manageable. Reading the biographies of the poets also helped. These were people of varying personalities --outgoing, quiet --bound together by this search for meaning and the use of images and words to try and gather the meaning where they found it. All had difficult lives (including Robert Frost --who knew?). If their lives were hard, and they could find beauty in the midst of all of that, maybe it would all be okay? Maybe I had to let go to feel what they felt in those moments when they composed their poems?

Favorites included "Miracle Fair" by Wisława Szymborska, "Aimless Love" by Billy Collins, and "The Joy of Fishes" by Chuang-Tzu.

And now, an attempt at my own poem. It is for my friend. I would apologize for attempting poetry, but it helped me.

through tears

I watch the ash tree

outside the window

and I see

the leaves feel nothing

but the wind