Monday, April 8, 2013

bird

My wires are getting crossed. Yesterday when I was doing the dishes I threw the silverware across the kitchen floor. Then I stood there in the exaggerated silence that fills a space after a loud noise. "Well," I said aloud, half laughing, my hand against my forehead, "that really accomplished a lot."

This past week, it seems as if there have been two of me sharing one shape. There's the person who throws the spoons and the person who picks them up, rewashes them, and then suggests gently that I go for a walk.

I feel like the bird that hits the window. But I'm also the kid who stoops down and gathers the bird, puts it in a shoe box, tries to talk to it.  How can I be both of those things? How is it that I can sit back and scratch my head, wondering why I feel so angry and overwhelmed, but I can't fix it?

How is it that after five years I haven't run out of bird metaphors?

The things that are supposed to cause me enjoyment are not causing me any enjoyment. I am trying to figure out why. I am trying to figure out why I wake up every morning gasping for breath. I feel like a fish with a baffled, wide open mouth.

There are certain things that I want to go away.  They are good things and I want them to go away. Invitations and opportunities anybody would be lucky to have are turning me into a ball of chattering anxiety.

I'm afraid of saying this out loud because of what it might open me up to, if somebody will call me out for being ungrateful or entitled or spoiled. Maybe. Maybe not. I'm in Chicago now, suspended between Seattle and Asheville, feeling like the fish and the bird.

Hoping my flight will not be delayed forever, trying to figure it out.
***
This past week we lit the first of the summer's bonfires. Salt air and smoke always makes me feel better. I've spent so much time on the beach lately I wonder if I'm slowly becoming frosted, like sea glass.
Maybe a few more cobalt evenings of salt and smoke and I'll be untwisted, I'll be done abusing birds with literary techniques, or abusing literary techniques with birds, whichever way it goes. 



27 comments:

Britta said...

You're just at the edge of it all - change is coming. You can feel it. And it's discerning. From the outside looking in, it looks like great life changing things are coming. The journey is shifting into the next phase of life. Easier said than done - but I suggest running arms wide open into it.

Anonymous said...

I agree, change is coming and your body is telling you- it always knows before you do. Either that or heck, you're a woman, and this is what we do. Rock on.

Anonymous said...

so identifying with this today. also, thanks for reminding me of this song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dwXW6u9-zcQ

Sarah said...

When I feel like THAT, I listen to THIS: http://www.amazon.com/The-Power-Now-Spiritual-Enlightenment/dp/1577312082/ref=tmm_abk_title_0 and breathe deeply

Nicolette Gawthrop said...

well, i've been there. i'm a thrower, too. it's exhausting. i admire your passion, for bird metaphorics and all. take extra care to rest and listen to your body. you'll make it. love your honesty. love your posts!

xoxo
ozarkmamadeer

Stormy said...

I think you are in grave danger of turning into a poet

Jacki said...

Oh ... I feel so much of this, all the time. If there's a solution, it hasn't come to me yet. For me I know it's going to look like big, sweeping, painful change in my work life - but I can't afford to do it yet - so I continue to crash, wishing every night that night wouldn't happen and every morning that I didn't have to deal with the day. I hope it's easier for you and that this passes, soon!

meg bird said...

Whenever I feel like that (which is something I still haven't figured out a word for), I always come to that same thought. That, "everyone is going to think I am so ungrateful for feeling like this when I literally have everything I need."

And it only makes me feel worse. I hope you're out of your "funk" (I think that's a thing) soon.

Daniegirl said...

Yeah man, I totally get like this sometimes. Usually there is a reason. I just have to think back far enough and figure out when it started. Sometimes there is something that is bothering me that I have been ignoring.

Sometimes there is no reason at all.

Either way, it's okay. You recognize it, which is good. Plus, you have to feel it to move through it.

Keli said...

Don't over analyze or be to hard on yourself. Just feel it, take one thing a time and don't be afraid to say 'no'. If you don't look out for yourself...no one else will. Here's hoping a good night's sleep and few cold beers do the trick :)

Diabra said...

Hi, Thinking of you while you are in this uncomfortable state of being. I appreciate your honesty in your writing, that said if you were a real life friend I'd be bringing soup over. This too shall pass :)

B. Holmes said...

We all feel like "throwing the silverware" sometimes... And your right it won't do much to help, the walk was probably the best idea for unwinding. And it's OK to not accept an invitation now and then, we can't DO everything. Give yourself a break hon. Take Care

Jillian22 said...

Melina, I think we all go through a period (or five) where we itch to get away from what reason and logic tell us are good things. When we are unfulfilled by what we think should be fulfilling us. I'm glad you're honest enough to admit it because I know someday I will experience it again and I can only hope I will be honest too. Speak your mind and heart; we are here to listen.

Lynn said...

None of us are 100% one way...we are multi-layered....so you can be the silverware thrower AND picker upper. Not a psychologist but maybe this is your way of moving forward to something different--the uneasiness as a precursor to change.

Elisa said...

Sea glass is beautiful...It is precious to those who are willing to search for it and to those who, with childlike fascination, rescue it from the sharp sands which embraced it for so long. And honestly...the more frosted, the more intriguing.

I'm a non-traditional student in a very traditional private school. They say they are open minded and love learning...and well, maybe they are and do; yet, I find that when I enter those doors, I re-heally just desire to turn and leave. And I have. That is not me. Not loving to learn and not becoming immersed, is not me. I hate that. I think stress plays a huge role in human behavior. In all my worrying, I have found myself being short and rude with others [which is the worst!]

Sometimes I am perched on a tired electric wire, sagging across a grey sky. With a keen eye, I see myself saying and doing things that are so-not-typical and I wonder if these are my 'true colors' or if it is a fluke. A passing breeze of tension and confusion, overshadowing my true heart of compassion and restfulness.

I have no idea how to finish this comment...so I'll just share the truth: Patrick Swayze is dancing in my living room...on my tv...

Christa said...

Just wanted to let you know that second paragraph is my favorite thing I've read this week.

Thank you for that & your continued work to make sense of things through words. I know sometimes the work of getting it down is the hardest when what ends up on the page seems the most simple and clear.

Michelle T said...

Hang in there. I've found that I get like this in the spring. Don't know why. But usually by summer things are better. Time on the beach can do nothing but good. Add in friends, beer and a fire and it's even better.
Keep flying, little bird.

Tamara said...

Right there with you. Wondering if it's the spring, or anxiety about what's next, or just a moment of some kind that will pass eventually, if you (we) just wait long enough.

Love the bird metaphors.

SmithShack71 said...

Well, my computer was all wonky and finally after several tries I was able to read this.
Sorry you're in a weird funk. I feel you on this, except for mine is when I go to bed. Which is totally new and been going on for about a week. I don't love it.
Just try to get good deep breaths in and out.
Hope you find some peace.

-Angie

Amanda said...

I really love the way you wrote this. This is a lot of what I'm feeling lately.

sfb said...

I can't stop thinking about this photograph you took of a whole bunch of skiers. Would you ever consider selling a large print?

sfb said...

I can't stop thinking about this photograph you took of a whole bunch of skiers. Would you ever consider selling a large print?

Anonymous said...

Maybe God is trying to speak to you. Pray and be still. Listen.

jody said...

I'm in touch with that emotion. Been there for sure. Running makes me feel better. It's all okay as long as I can run. Get that mountain bike and get some aggression out in a fun way. Beware the endos. :*)

Jessica said...

Melina, you have just described my life in your post. I too feel like a baffled fish, a bird hitting a window... hang in there interweb friend. I'm cheering for you.

Sierra said...

Oh lady...I'm so with you. I've felt like this (off and on and off and on again) for months. It's scary to say it out loud, to put it out there. I haven't known how to articulate it, and you just did. Thank you + I'm sorry, all wrapped into one, for this.

adventurekate said...

Thanks for being brave enough to put this feeling into words!