angle of repose.

 

 

i know myself well. sometimes i must sit with a feeling and sink into it, let it settle into my soul, until i am ready to let go. 

it’s that whole angle of repose thing. the steepest angle at which a sloping surface formed of a particular loose material is stable. feeling myself rolling in the detritus until i settle. until my thoughts are stable.

i have had this long ongoing conversation, written and posted, over and over again, with a dear friend. how to let go. fuck it, some days i just can’t. i just cannot let go. it ain’t that easy for me.

so here i am, taking life very slowly, walking with a trekking pole to keep my posture upright and sans limp so that when i fully recover from upcoming surgery, i will be new again. no, i’m not dwelling in self-pity. i’m not being self-centered. this all feels like grief. i remember the feeling from years ago when i gave up a part of my body to a surgeon’s knife. upon waking, i was silently weeping because part of me was gone and i wasn’t ever gonna be whole again. it’s a matter of trust. in others. in self. i am trusting that i will be stoic [damn it] and i will follow instructions so that life will be better. for me. for others. 

while meeting with my pure soul surgeon, i learned some new things i can tuck into my heartpocket and pull out when i need. wear it like armor and it cannot be used against you. he had to turn my care over to a specialist, and upon doing so, he told new guy “don’t fuck this up….i’ve known her too long.” so now i sit in angle of repose. i walk coyote hill in angle of repose. i walk with my stick, bearing the stupid comments from others, knowing i am wearing my stick like armor so that it cannot be used against me.

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2 thoughts on “angle of repose.

  1. Sometimes we have no choice but to take life slowly. Our bodies tell us to slow the fuck down. Do *I* listen? Not always, but I’m learning.

    And fear not, my dear friend, there are things I just cannot let go of either. I’ve given up trying.
    That’s the art of letting go of letting go. 😉

    Thinking of you….
    x

  2. julie. my friend.
    yeah. i hear ya. now that i have given in and acknowledged the pain and impending procedure, i am in a state of acceptance. in fact, i am looking forward to surgery and healing.

    xx

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