by Angela Meyers
I woke up this morning thinking I would write the Anatomy of Sadness. Then I opened my laptop and read a Mark Twain quote. It altered me…dissolved my self pity and called on my warrior heart. I want to hear that call everyday. The question haunting me this morning: When will I meet someone who really sees me? I have this feeling, only I can fill these shoes. I am a little confused, but I am not disappointed. Prologue Permission: this poem is a safe place To explore the Anatomy of Sadness I try to remember that I am a circus performer I am about to dive into a tiny pool, in a big tent, surrounded by a great, grand world My audience is none but myself After I jump, and I climb out of my tiny pool, I will take a bow, only to myself It is an extraordinary thing to do To fall so far with so little a safety net Many climb to their own platforms, and just smoke cigarettes and drink up there, nursing addictions, never braving the lonely fall For many that jump, the shock of the experience takes their life-breath away They either never come out of it or they come out smuggling fear in their heart Many never try again But if I know myself at all I will keep climbing and jumping, until the whole circus fades away And I am standing bowing in honor to the experience of my life The Anatomy of Sadness, A Single Story For me, It has dark edges A wildness A brutality that startles me awake in the night In the morning It is merciless with its endless interpretations Imagination can turn it into a sort of high-speed tumbling into oblivion Like a rocket man at the edge of the atmosphere Falling off a proverbial cliff into no-gravity It disorients the navigation system For me, it is an uprooting It reminds me of trying to save my mother from herself It reminds me of the girl I thought I was It reminds me of the girl I never was It reminds me of hitting the bottom only to realize I am still floating No gravity, yet carrying all the heaviness of the world on my shoulders Learning to love myself, from watching myself love others I looked at you, and I am sure that I saw you And saw brilliance where so many, even you, suspected plainness Your words were alchemy They felt like a fire in my belly They felt like an old friend warming up my soul Your beauty took me by surprise, delighted me The way you fit so tenderly in my arms It was as simple as gravity It was a reverence It was an honoring It was like coming home It did not belong to any interpretation in this world Yet it was so fragile So overwhelmed and drowned out by karma Learning to love myself, from watching myself diminish others When it happens There is a judgment that startles me as I watch it leave my body An idea born in my mind that feels like betrayal My brain cuts the other down by categorizing the expression of their heart The way I do to myself all day, yet never shudder But when I watch it pass to another, I am startled by its ugliness I have this imagining that they feel it So each time it happens, I say a prayer that they are immune or that they are protected from it For I suspect angels may offer that protection, even from ourselves At the very least, I hopefully imagine that they are unaffected due to lack of interest Then I try to remember that I have a choice That maybe my heart knows that love, hate, judgment, beauty, ugliness is only filtered through this human experience We must choose every day what to let in, knowing karma will require us to transmit it back into the world Angela Meyers lives in northern Colorado and works as a Physician’s Assistant. She enjoys the creative process of writing, and has a beautiful way of using metaphor and descriptive voice.
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AuthorsThe Recent Musings of Solar Moon Press are a compendium of contributions by various brilliant and loving minds. Each separate blog will give specific author information. Archives
March 2022
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