Rabbit!! Running last night with Alaska and she darts of, a habit that has blossomed these past few weeks, and disappears into the hedgerow. She has become confident enough to chase anything into the bushes, with out even a glance back to me. Anyway last night she came out with more than grass seeds trapped in her coat. In her mouth, hanging limp was a doe. This one was not fast enough. I chased Alaska across the fields to another hedge which harvested another opportunity to chase prey. Alaska dropped the doe and forgot all about it while she got busy chasing. On inspection i found that the doe had a broken leg, sharp bone protruded from the right hind leg. It's eyes were not blank, just no animation. I had to decide weather to leave it there or take it home with us. That was an interesting choice to make. Recently Alaska had been left in a room with my house mates rabbit and no surprises that the life of rabbit continued in the room transiently.
So you can see, it might have been thought insensitive of me to bring back a dead doe, when only a couple of days had past since the parting of a household pet. My luck had it, that the house mate in question was away, and not returning for some time. So the choice became weather i felt the need to take rabbit home with me. I dont know really how i made the choice, but i took it home.
Carrying it along the open fields was almost nostalgic. But when i go t to the urban areas, the feelings and thoughts turned to expressions of those capturing a glimpse of rabbit, dangling from my right hand. It was an odd experience. I have never had to bring back a animal, from the killing fields. I have never had to provide, in such a way, for myself or my family. It was an odd experience because i was carrying a freshly killed animal through the urban landscape. The killer at my hand. What would people think of such an animal? It did pose questions in my mind.
Well, this morning, Monday, i gutted, skinned, washed and butchered the doe. It is now meat, pieces, sitting in tupperware in the fridge.
Head and heart
Skinned and belly empty
I had to find a new job. Working in childcare, as fun and rewarding as it may be for my karmic account, leaves little for my material account. And you don't get a great deal of hours. So with all the newness that is evolving in our lives, it was a priority to get a new job. But leaving the old job has been a hard few weeks, and with around seven days left, I am feeling a lot of emotion. There are the old kids, the ones that have been there longer than i have worked there, and there are the new kids, the new faces that you get to know. Working in play schemes has taught me, if anything, how to deal with young, little people. And it has been a great experience. What has made it more difficult is the staff that i work with. With many of the staff i have never really felt the close commeradery or professional kinship that i would have thought would be created. Apart from my immediate line manager who i have thought of as an older surrogate sister. But even this has had me thinking twice. The situation feels like i have let her down in some way, by choosing to leave. And i can feel that she has made this clear in the way I am treated. Things have changed. It seems pointless to provide details of something that can only be observed so subjectively, within the context of years.
i walked home, thinking about it, letting it wander through my mind, as it is best to do, i find, when emotional irrationality takes over your thinking, and i wondered what it is that i would say to someone about this. What would i finally make of it? Latter this evening, it did come to me, although in a very surprising way, which I believe to be another story all together. I wondered, maybe the treatment that i felt, or the way that i perceived i was being treated, (lets not make any sweeping judgement just yet) might in fact be the opposite. The cruel to be kind phenomena. Was it that in her efforts to make the transition emotionally clean, surgical in nature, she had began to distance herself professionally. Anyway, maybe this reveals more about me that it does the thing that i am discussing, but talking about it just makes things feel better.
Janet and vannessa
And rest. There is room to breathe again. There is a goal in sight and a horizon, which still a distance away, can be seen to be moving closer.
There is nothing worse, that distracts and steals my energy, than the thoughts and feelings that i have been burned. There is an uncertainty involved, that much is clear to me. And the sickness, the twisting in the stomach couped with an inability to make clear decisions, that I make no final choices here, let me make that clear.In hope that the world delivers opinions, i reach out. I wonder if the one person that i want to read this, might, offer a answer, the final answer that frees me from my, fully mortgaged, failure to trust and love without fear. Tossing and turning on my bed, it feels like there is no comfort in it, i run thoughts from one side to the other of my mind. I cross out one thought, only when its lunacy has run its course, exhausted by its own frantic form, to have it replaced by an other. To speak it i must acknowledge the pain it suffers on the one it references. Slightest silence, a sense that she no longer wants me. The undertone in the last words, before we end our conversation, searching. Left wanting, and measured it seems, known to be less than enough.
i walk through the neighborhood that i have adopted, thinking that i must value myself, and consider that this one woman that has me guessing, has missed my interpretation. I could laugh to myself with that one; it feels like that no one has ever seen me. The mind that resides, knows no light, no reflection from another's face.
And self pity, it knows my name. Fond memories?
The peace that i long for.... The certainty. Knowing that there is always unknown, i can imagine will ease my breathing, restore my diaphragm . The subtleness between saying, doing, or not saying and avoiding, is the cloak for deception, but also the fine qualities in life also.
If someone could talk to me and tell me that i am worrying over nothing, then it would help. If someone told me that i was a fool and what i attempt as opening words, is nothing other than self pity and ego filled drivel then i would sigh and feel that i might be able, and on a path to banishing these feelings with a mighty final choice.
I found that the long distance, the pull towards Tatenda is building up the most intense emotions and feelings. Each day i find it near impossible not to imagine the worst case that is possible. The array of dark thoughts that furnish my day dreams are draining me of every dreg of energy. I talk with her and the smallest thing, the unknown, any uncertainty creates a space where all i can engage in is indulgence. A dark indulgence where hurtful words are spoken, of shameful thoughts. The lessons i must have decided to learn, they really must be the core stuff. I cant imagine any other reason why i would want to put myself, or anyone esle through this. And Tatenda does go through this also, i know. When the words have left my lips, and entered a silence, i know already i feel a shame for thinking them. Speaking them out loud is the insult added to injury. I even think that ending it is the answer, as if that when i would i might not insult Tatenda anymore, i might not leave her with hurtful things. I try very hard to reach her with my love, but all i seem to do, in my moments of emotional distress is lash out, and swing carelessly, bruising those closest to me, Janet, my Tatenda. I believe that it is not about ceasing the thoughts from entering my mind, at least not from banishing them, for they must serve some self preservation. No i consider that the answer is in controlling their influence over me and my actions. I must realize that i can not indulge in them. These dark fantasies, where i pitch my mind in dark places, and concoct dark reasons and motives for the things that i can never understand. I think that might be the insight. There are things in this world that i will never be able to understand. To attempt to grasp every moment and understand it fully, with a yearning for truth, may lead to madness. No, i think that excepting that there are always things that wil not make sense, that will never reveal themselves into the light, that may be the phrase that is uttered to myself, and to others in times of strain, hopefully without the stain of sarcasm.
In all i have bouts of great certainty, met with punctuations of doubt. Being do far away from Tatenda has pulled on my heart and pushed me to a place where i am at a strain each day. Straining to heave my heavy heart out from the cusp of a cliff edge, that hangs a drop into emotional despair and certain death for the love that i crave. Where are the fields of corn. Where is the soil to bury my heart in, to nourish and nurture, developing a lesson to be prepared, to be passed on. I certainly hope for a future with Tatenda. I hope that she loves me enough to see that i am hurting myself primarily; hurting her is the damage sustained by close proximity, even at times where we a re separated by half the world.
The running fields
