Metamorphosis

 

butterfly

Natural causes, supernatural destiny

the birth of beauty in its truest form

pain staking discomfort, transformation

giving up, letting go, stepping in to isolation and darkness, powerless to natures chosen path

resignation that this body, this perceived dwelling of self no-longer serves that but the hungry bird, just a morsel for hungry souls

in the damp, unknown and unfamiliar

Metamorphosis

Upon birth the butterfly is simply waiting to be born

-Alisa Hutton

 

Pan-dem-ic

park

pan·dem·ic

/panˈdemik/

adjective

  1. (of a disease) prevalent over a whole country or the world.

This was never meant to be a page to write about this thing called, “pandemic”. It was meant to be a place for poetry. Where thoughts and feelings flowed like warm water over delicate hands. It was meant to be a place to reflect summer love and the scent of honey suckle and all things fluffy and nice. It was my sacred space to be a writer of weirdo proportions.

Here I am. Here we are. COVID-19. Pandemic. There is nothing poetic about either of those words (or realities). Truthfully, today I hate both words. I don’t use that word very often, hate. As someone who writes words are important to me, so I don’t like to use the word hate. It is harsh, unforgiving and jagged. It hurts but I truly and with much sincerity hate COVID-19 and this god forsaken I don’t even know what to call it besides, pandemic.

It all seems like a bad fucking dream at this point, one that I can’t wake up from. I followed it from afar, discussed it with my friends over drinks after work, lightly talking about how scary it was. Total and absolute ignorance when I think back on it now. In my mind it was a long flight away, in another part of the world. I see now, I was apathetic to the reality of it. It was already knocking on the doorstep of almost every country in the world.

I have lost track of time. I know I started a new job on a Wednesday and by Friday my boss was discussing that we might have to work from home for a few weeks starting the coming Monday. That was I don’t know how many weeks ago. I do know every day has felt the same, progressively worse actually. I get up every morning and think “today, I am going to have a good day”. By dinner I have usually questioned if I can handle things and my ability to cope, have cried and usually become totally enraged by something. All extreme in feeling and nature and not who I am on a “normal” day. It is wearing. I toss between desperately searching for gratitude as I feel like an absolute douche bag if I don’t or I just want to call it like it is and be an absolute douche bag and drop f-bombs in the hope I will shake this god forsaken feeling of groundhog day out of my system.

I stopped watching the news, I have to, I can’t handle it anymore. My system is on overload. I am someone who knows how to deal with system overload, and I am not dealing with this well. This concerns me. I don’t feel like I am being a good employee, a good mother, a good friend, a good anything really. If humaning was a class I would 100% be failing right now. For Christ sake I can’t even seem to consistently take a shower and brush my teeth these days. I just wake up and think, why? I have lost all sense of purpose in my life. I hate it. I hate COVID-19 and this thing called “pandemic” can kiss my ass.

I wonder, maybe this is the gift in this bullshit (sorry for swearing so much, it makes me mildly feel better). Maybe, I am supposed to take this unbearable discomfort and do something with it, like feel it? Maybe I am supposed to question it? Maybe I am supposed to remind myself of all the things that I am missing so badly, what I wish I could do, the hands I want to hold, the people who I so desperately just want to sit in the same space with and squeeze their face because I love them and miss them. Maybe all of this is here to clarify what really matters in our hearts? Or maybe I am just losing my god damn mind. At this point, both feel equally possible.

I don’t know the answers. I like to believe that everything happens for a reason and the greatest gifts we often receive come during or after going through some of our most difficult times. Maybe I just think that because I need to in order to stay positive and move forward? I don’t know. I don’t understand why a whole world must go through this collectively? Maybe we all need to learn together? I don’t know. I write when I don’t understand because it is the only thing that slows my brain down. During times like this, to me it feels like everything is painfully slow but my thoughts and feelings are screaming, competing almost to sort things out and make sense of this total an utter bullshit (which I don’t understand!). I like calm and order in my world and I like to understand things, it makes me feel safe. Right now, none of what is going on makes me feel safe.

I know how shitty I felt today. How incredibly hard it was to muster up an ounce of gratitude for anything. How hard it was to talk myself in to “everything is going to be OK”. I didn’t’ smile once today, I didn’t laugh, I didn’t think “oh gee I am really looking forward to that”. That is a horrible feeling. So, I wrote to try and shake off this shit thing called “pandemic”. I figure someone out there is probably feeling shitty too and it makes me sad because I know it sucks. Sometimes knowing someone else feels just as shitty as you do helps.

I don’t understand all of this. I do know it doesn’t make me want to write poetry. Who knows maybe by the end of it all we will find something more beautiful than poetry because of it? I hope so.

Thanks for listening.

A.

Inconsequential

pressed

Sprinkled thoughts and sleepless nights

Tossing dreams that roll with words unkind

Hearts and hopes furiously left undone, once escaped, forever gone

Such curiously fragile those pressed memories we carry in our minds

What was real and what was not?

Inconsequential stories of the breath of love and when it is lost

~Alisa Hutton

Anticipation

bubble

It is that unpredictable edge of the wave right before the break. Breathless raw fear that feels as though it may swallow you whole. That moment of  bated-breath before uttering the words of your unspoken heart. I love you. Feeling electricity run through your body like a freight train about to jump its tracks. Tender vulnerability that is seconds away from the light of exposure. Will you rise in strength or cower in shame? Do you open your mouth or leave it alone? Do you keep in silence what I already know? It is anxiety screaming as courage fights to enter the ring of all that is unforeseen and unknown. A dance between yesterday and tomorrow when today is the most meaningful show. It is the universe speaking to you in its loud taps and whispering ways. Exceptionally honorable in its truth and magnificently bold, the feelings of the heart that are about to be told.

-Anticipation

~Alisa Hutton

I Am Me

Simply

I am scared but never fearful

I once lost myself deeply in love

I found myself because of this

It will always be a successful relationship for this reason

I have made poor choices that came with a landslide of shame and remorse

I learned the importance of never putting my values down

I breathe them now

Those values line the soles of my shoes

I don’t regret my choices for they have taught me

I stumble and I fall

I always get back up

It will happen again

I am not perfect

I never will be nor do I care to chase illusions of such

My humility and compassion live in my fabric because of this

My glass is not half empty nor half full

My life and attitude are not measured by a glass

I am open and vast and ever-expanding

My heart is pure and this is all the perfect I need

I make no apologies for who I have been or who I am

I am strength and gentle in equal force

Simply

I am me.

~Alisa Hutton

It Is

it is

It is

The story you tell in your comfortable silence

Quiet glances that needn’t any words

Your thoughts now, respectfully honored and heard

It is

The glass of water that arrived before we knew how great our thirst

A shared breeze, side by side, our toes warmly folded in the sand

How perfect it is, cherished unplanned time while we gently hold hands

It is

Deeply closing our eyes because we are no longer blind

That laugh we shared, I kept a little for later

My confession; it makes me smile when it dances across my mind

It is

Exactly as we are

Exactly how we feel

The treasures we will find

If I am me and you are you

Imagine the beautiful possibilities of a world  so genuine and true

~Alisa Hutton

Could It Be

could-it-be

She softly strokes humility because her broken soul jarred her awake one night

Cracks spilling over with authentic human, ruining the perfect white rug

Now breathing values where her once damp intentions filled her lungs with the murky waters of attainment

Her hands warming others with compassion and forgiveness because late one evening resentment and anger swallowed her whole

Walking with love and kindness, the opposite was once her truth

They dare not question what they see in her eyes

The familiarity an echo of their uncomfortable past

Beneath all of our good a different nature once filled our shoes

One the cherished child

The other our neglected disappointment

Gentle is how we choose to walk as our hearts didn’t always takes steps of such divine purpose

Our greatest capacity and strengths founded on our harshest days

File it away and don’t speak of it out loud

Secrets will keep us all safe

Or could it be?

All of us have our light

With thanks to our dark shadow

Not the other way

~Alisa Hutton