#infatuată

eșarfa roșie mă privește complice
din sertarul cu obiecte speciale,
îmi promite
că o să împărțim iar ore, minute, clipe
greu de uitat.
eu, ea, rochia roșie, dresurile plasă…
și un bărbat.

dar mâine se apropie cu fiecare azi,
dragostea ta mi-a fost cușcă,
pereții
m-au strâns pân-am simțit
cum mă înstrăinez de mine
durerea
singurul ghid spre o ieșire
altfel de negândit.

e mâine deja, port rochia
preferată a marii mele iubiri,
fiecare
zâmbet, prilej de bucurie, nou început
e încă o înmormântare
a tot ce-ar fi putut să fie și…n-a fost.
libertatea mi-a venit prin curier,
contracost.

viitorul răspunde la întrebarea
Oare m-a uitat?
o face
ghiduș, flirtând pe sub gene, privindu-mă
lung cu aceiași ochi verzi pe care mi-i aminteam.
viitorul
e gata să se-ntâmple, să vină,
să mă prindă hotărât de mână în timp ce
alungă fantome veninoase cu un zâmbet
prin care i se preling raze calde de soare

The words that open doors

Photo by Annie Spratt

There are a lot of things going on, as the world as we used to know it fades away and our lives tend to be all over the place. It makes us feel bad about our journey so far, and become self-absorbed, very often in some toxic loops.

In times like these, extremely challenging for our mental well-being, the key to one’s soul is a simple phrase: What do you need right now?

There are six simple words, making a big statement. A common phrase, that doesn’t require you to have years of studying behind you or a specific social status to be successfully used. It requires a simple, yet efficient thing: to have a genuine interest for the other person.

We are forced into change. Changes that were not planned, that were not expected demand to be done. And this means that a lot of people struggle. They struggle with pain, anxiety, high-stress levels, and loss. They lose their jobs, homes, even loved people. It is a generally disturbing time, extended to a global scale. This can’t and won’t be easy to manage, and we can’t expect it to be.

This also means that the struggle can be made easier to go by. It only needs us to be kind. Kind with ourselves and with others around us.  In times of hardship, kindness becomes not a virtue, but a responsibility.

Of course, it takes courage and practice, as we’ve got so, so used to seeing other’s flaws and always have negative inner monologues. But this should change as well, if we want the damage made by a historical challenge to diminish. We can’t help people get back what they’ve lost, we can’t do this for ourselves either, but we can be the ones with kind words.

Today I won’t come and say that this or that should be different, or how to change things about yourselves. Today, instead, I come and tell you to get in the world and be kind.

Kindness has, unfairly and for too long, been mistaken for weakness. It’s not, and has never actually been. It is, somehow, a universal language, the key to any door, regardless of how guarded it would be. Kind people tend, because of their guarded doors, seem as strong too often and for too long. Today, this can do more harm than good, for their own mental health, to begin with.

Do you know those people that help everyone, and seem to have everything together all the time? Those people that walked with you on this path till you got where you are? The people that you keep saying that you’re so grateful to? Talk to them, and ask them that question. Then wait and see. Witness them blush, witness them getting shy, trying to put a reliable façade on, and, eventually, witness them telling you what’s missing from their bigger picture.

Because we all miss something and we all need something, but when you are so used to be the provider, it feels inappropriate to ask for things. Even if you offered support, been there for people when they’ve struggled, you feel like it’s an unnatural thing to do it yourself. Like that’s your job, to support and lift other people. How would you admit that you need, as well, to be lifted and supported? It is, by no means, an easy thing. But it is what one needs to remain able to keep going.

So go out there, and text or call the person that has always been there for you, the one that has already popped in your mind. Ask that person what it feels like it would make her journey easier, better.

The answer will rarely be materialistic. Instead, it will give you the chance to open a new door and see them blooming differently. And this will always be the kind of gift to remember, as our kindness and empathy remain, at the end of the day, signs of our adaptability. So let’s just try to be kinder, so we won’t turn bitter.

Me, my grief and I

During the last few days, as I’ve been trying to understand and name what I am feeling, a word was spinning across my mind over and over again- grief. Defined by the American Psychological Association as the anguish experienced after significant loss, usually the death of a beloved person, but it is so much more. The notion of grief can be extended to any major loss encountered by an individual: the loss of a lifestyle, a job, a dear person, a pet or whatever was bringing meaning into the person’s life. We’re constantly grieving a lot of things, as it is a huge part of managing our losses.

This happens because what we’ve lost had a big meaning for us, maybe it was also a big investment- we often grieve relationships and things we’ve put our soul, time, energy and effort into, but grief is way more complex than just that. According to the same association, grief often includes physiological distress, separation anxiety, confusion, yearning, obsessive dwelling on the past, and apprehension about the future. This is a clear image of how rich are the shades of such a feeling and, by extent, how important it is to be seen and managed accordingly.

As I’m writing this piece, I look outside my window, seeing the snow falling on the forest that comes to life slowly, and I recall everything I’m grieving. All the little things, the chances I didn’t take when I was put in front of them, all the people I’ve never got to say hi to because I was shy…

The context we’re currently living in made me aware of a lot of things. Small things, small gestures now I regret that I’ve never made. All the compliments I didn’t get to make and every truth that I’ve avoided to say, in order to protect my peace and fragile-anyhow balance.

And, because nothing’s ever black and white, I have, as I write this article, a revelation: nostalgia is only grief in disguise.

That explains a lot. The memories I tend on recalling often, the hope that it will, soon, be everything “normal” again…a lot. It even explains why I miss worrying about what am I going to wear tomorrow, or the sprint after the bus. Because being trapped in a present continuous is just exhausting. It makes you fall into a loop of grief, in shapes that you’re not aware of being ways of manifesting grief.

You feel nostalgic, regretting things and periods of your life, often remorseful on how could you’ve done things better. These are, all, ways of grieving.

I can’t say that I will make things better after all this is going to end. But I will certainly tell those people what bothers me about them. I will go out with the dear ones that I keep postponing over and over. I will go into that coffee shop and tell that barista what an awesome guy he is, and how I’d wish to have discovered the place earlier. Basically, all the tiny things that my timidity stopped me from doing. It will not be huge, it will not change the world, but it will change me, for better or worse.  

Because, and that’s another bitter discovery I’ve made, the opposite of gratitude is not ingratitude, but grief, as it is making us hold on to some old ties, most of them cutting new scars into our souls.