Un-Contained

I love all my poems but this one is pinnacle:

I lived in tiny little boxes. My sweet self, my nasty self, my hateful, rebellious I couldn’t care less self, and the cleaned up for church self, all sitting together in their containers, not touching or meeting, never allowed to fraternize.

It’s a free for all, the day you start un-packing. Absolute mayhem. Bring the sweet one out first, so she can referee. No, she’ll be decked in two minutes. Bring out the cynic so she can give you all good reasons why this is a terrible idea. Even so, it must be done.

In the end, when everyone shakes hands, wishing the others well, there is a mutual understanding and respect you can’t achieve in boxes. Everyone breathes easier, and trust heals the broken, divisive years; stitches the past together so you can go on, lighter, freer.

When you all want the same thing, when your heart, mind, body and soul all desire peace, love, light and healing ~ that’s when the magic happens. That’s when the Absolute can work with you.

LBM 1/13/2023

Photo by Lori B. McCray, archives. Biggest surprise ever, that Doodle jumped into the hamster cage and that Scoobis groomed him. The foot on the nose slays me (note, rabbits should NEVER be contained in small cages. I never caged any of my 4, except in the very beginning when Doodle was biting, but as soon as he got over it, the cage left the house, and Doodle went on to be a snuggle bug kiss my face bunny).