...may-bee, may-bee not...

Writing, like seemingly everything else in my life these days, comes in fits and spurts...

That previous post?
Was
Not
What I sat down to write.

Not at all.

But out the words tripped...fingers clicking away...mind swirling through memory...

It's fine.

I'm fine.

Sometimes the quiet words just write themselves out.

~~~

What I intended to sit down to write was this:

May has been full of bees.

And because May has been full of bees, I am on overwhelm.

Okay, may-bee not just bee-cause of the bees...

~~~

Spring sprang a leak this year...making a muddle...or should that be puddle...of all my 'big plans'.

Life, leaking out all over the place...one spill running into the next.

I've been jokingly referring to myself as a 'crisis manager' of late...because, seemingly, every day brings another to my doorstep.

And the bees are witness to it all...buzzing about each window and watching me unravel.

I'd like a redo...right about now...write about now...a rewrite of May.

One in which I can make plans and keep them.

One in which progress is both linear and exponential...and altogether measurable.

Instead of a maelstrom.

Instead of a meltdown.

Instead of a let-down.

~~~

May has been full of bees.

At the windows.

In the doorway.

Worse, yet, the ones who find their way in through some yet un-caulked crack.

From sunrise to sundown...a constant presence...a constant threat.

The "landlord" solution has been...less than ideal, so the swarm remains, having simply moved to higher ground and sworn on revenge.

They've kept us indoors, more often than not, and stalled our usual outward expansion of spring.

~~~

May has been full.

Of bees.

Of crises.

Of emergencies.

May has been full of effort and failure and things that just don't work.

~~~

I'm learning the hard way, I suppose, that the trauma-based coping mechanisms I've relied on for too much of my life really-truly aren't meant for long term sustained use.

It hasn't gone unnoticed...that the year in which I finally resolved to heal, has brought so much of the damage right back to the surface.

It's as though the calendar saw my resolution and said "I'll raise you...let's do it all at once!".

So rather than parsing things out...bit by bit...sitting with one wound or another and letting my inner child cry it out...May has been a "throw it all in a blender" month.

The therapeutic approach, of course, is to tackle one thing at a time.

But that doesn't account for the moments or weeks or Mays when it literally all hits at the same time.

~~~

This quote found its way to me recently.

“Break often - not like porcelain, but like waves.”

― Scherezade Siobhan

I read it...once, then again.  Clicked through to copy/paste/save.

And then promptly forgot about it.

But today I happened upon it again, and this time I really...really read it.

There's no doubt that this healing requires breaking...requires not only feeling the old wounds, but picking away at the scabs and scar tissue they've been covered in.

So if breaking is required, may-bee...

Maybe I'll break like waves...relentless, unceasing, changing the terrain with every move.

Maybe I'll break like waves and heal as I flood out all the wounds at the same time.