Previous
Next
poem
When becoming becomes exhausting
A pause inside the depletion that can come from too much change, grief, and growth.
Soul Weary
I'm exhausted.
They say emptiness is required
To make space for transformation.
But is utter depletion the same thing?
I've faced burnout before.
When the world demands too much,
And I agree to the exploitation.
This is not quite the same though.
It's deeper.
I felt the burnout in my bones;
This hollowness, I feel near my soul.
There's only so much loss
So much grief
So much pain
So much change
So much growth
A body can take.
There's a narrow, narrow line.
And god if I'm not flirting with the edge.
If the universe requires clearing space
Adequate for what is to be given,
Then what's coming better be damn good.
I've cleared, cried, cursed, crucified,
Constructed, collapsed, capsized,
Controlled, corrected, compromised,
Created and ceded again and again.
When is it enough?
When do I get to be held, healed,
Happy, healthy, whole?
I try to keep trusting.
I try to let go.
I try to surrender.
Sometimes I can do it.
Sometimes I can't.
So many of the lessons
I already see the answer
Even as I sit within them.
Is it the universe holding me here?
Or is it just me?
At this point I don't really know anymore.
I know that I am weary.
I know that I want rest.
I know that I often feel abandoned
Even as I feel there is something
Lingering just beyond sense…
As the saying goes:
Before enlightenment:
splitting wood and hauling water.
After enlightenment:
splitting wood and hauling water.
By no means am I enlightened.
I know because most of the time
The before and after feel the same.
Every once in a while though,
The after feels lighter—
The wood a bit softer,
The water less heavy.
Maybe one day
This weariness will dissolve,
Somewhere between the wood and water.
I hope that day is soon.