Sometimes the world I love makes me sad and I'm compelled to write depressing poems. It's not usually one single thing which gets me down, more likely a series of unfortunate events or worries I have let grow too large.
So how do I navigate the inner turmoil of being a highly sensitive person in a noisy, fast paced world? Working towards a balance of mind and body is always a good preventive, but when that has failed to happen and I am sad, or over- tired or befuddled by my own seeming inconsistencies, I tend to curl up with a cup of tea and read or write.
Yesterday I was feeling a little too sorry for myself and I indulged in writing a double cinquain on wallowing in self pity. Anyone who truly knows me knows that practicing gratitude is a cornerstone of my approach to living, but every now and them I am given to writing a sad poem.
Wallow--
The word makes me
think of weeping, lonely
as the high tide mark of sadness
is breached
and I
am slowly drowned
by a sorrow I could
have saved myself from had I known
better.
Jill MacCormack
In truth, my surest way to escape myself is to get out for a walk in my favourite woods, or by the pond or muck about with heavy boots around the ditches. And as soon as wellness and weather conspire to allow this you'll find me doing just that.
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