So, I write...I can change it and tweak it until it says what I want it to say. At least in my mind, I understand all the nuances that may be lost to those who read what I scribble. It's the meandering. The pondering too much. Then, when I open my mouth, no matter how well I think I have prepared for this verbal thought, it stumbles out in a sentence that sounds like it just crawled out from a rocky cave. Not well formed or eloquent...not even really me...just a crude fragment with a few hesitations and stutters. At least that's how it sounds to me. The fear of making a mistake or sounding stupid manifests in what tumbles out.
Strife. Stress. Bickering and bitterness. Things I usually try to avoid. But other times, I meet them head on with a return fire that spews as much venom as the initial strike. Justification...that's what I'm saying...if you're going to stir it up, prepare to defend your stand because I'm gonna defend mine. The walls of this fortress have been thickening over time and they've stood strong through a lot.
Let Sleeping Dogs Lie.
True enough if you've ever seen a loyal dog roused by what could be perceived as an attack on it's master.
But metaphorically, it's a warning to heed the frenzy of barking, maybe even growling, that comes with the bleary eyes, tail tucked or pointed straight, the hair on it's back rising in a vertical spine like a razor back hog. It reflects the stir of activity and angst that flows from the stirred ashes of a long dead fire to fan the flames of anger, bitterness and unforgiveness to life once more. Not easy. I try. I try again.
Into the glow of plans for a new life and a new family come the dark clouds that rain on everyone's parade. As though the plans for a life together, at least started in a foreign land far away from family...new babies grown before we meet them, and the matriarchs on both sides of the family dealing with the ravages of time on their health and mind, weren't enough to cause me to reach for the light in order to hang onto hope. This.
Pondering My Meanderings... with much herbal love, Wanderer