Mood Swing😥

May 12, 2020

Inspired by conversations…

Sittin’ on a swing–

Me and my bad mood;

She wants to make me blush

So she whispers something lewd

In my ear that

Only I can hear—I shan’t repeat…I’ve hit delete.

She doesn’t mean to be offensive

When she’s feeling oh so pensive

There’s no need to get defensive—you can blame it

On the moon–ahh that crazy Luna!

Everybody knows that you can’t tune-a

Fish yet–you can always make a wish

Upon a star. It’s really not so very far from

Here to eternity; and

That’s

Exactly

Where

You’ll find me–

Sittin’ on a swing

With my melancholic sanguinity.

And

If

You’d like to join me

There’s room for two or more—

All the merrier.

The devil knows there’s

Nothing scarier

Than

When

We

Gather together

In love and laughter

Brave the stormy weather

Live happy ever after

Nothing lasts forever

Especially–

My bad mood.

-NZain 🙂

Real Neat Blog Award🏆

May 3, 2020

Hi! A real neat blogger

Who writes from her heart–

Charlotte

Nominated me–

And that is pretty neat!

So, from one real neat blogger to another, thank you!

And I think you

(especially if you are reading this right now)

Are also pretty neat!

You brighten my day

And inspire me.

I am grateful for our virtual friendship (thanks WP!)

And your kind supportive comments.

I appreciate the effort you make with your blog. So…

Congratulations! I nominate you!

You are a Real Neat Blogger!

Thanks, Dear Kitty!

😊NZain

https://dearkitty1.wordpress.com/2020/04/13/real-neat-blog-award-congratulations-15-nominees-2/

Hope and Pretty Dresses

April 25, 2020

I held Hope, a tiny mustard seed,

But it fell through my fingers onto the ground

And sprouted…

What good are pretty dresses still wrapped in tissue

Or pretty words left unspoken?

We started the war

And now

We don’t know

How

To make peace.

So we say nothing to each other,

Put on our dirty work clothes

And complain to ourselves

Instead

Of

Doing the thing

We know

Is right while

Waiting for the other person

In the room to show up

Wearing the pretty dress.

Maybe sometimes

The best thing to do

Is

Nothing.

Maybe, the only thing we can do is nothing– except

Let time pass and heal what wounds still remain.

Is there someone

Who has the answer?

Anyone?

All was silence

In the dark and

The mustard seed grew

And grew…

But it still wasn’t enough for the voracious appetite

Of the swarm

When they came unnoticed

And left us wondering

Now what?

How many times can we build it

Before they knock it down

Again.

And where did all my pretty words go…

I look to you for hope–

At least a smile—

However,

You are also looking

To me.

–NZain

This piece is about depression. Something I’ve struggled with for as long as I can remember. But, it’s also about hope…and letting go.

Grandmother Storyteller Chapter 8: Conclusion

April 23, 2020

Continued from Chapter 7: The Letter

Beth arrived at the grandmother’s house just in time to see the ambulance doors close. Two police officers standing under an apple tree with heads bowed crossed themselves.

And then nodding to Beth, quietly departed.

Stunned but pleased to see an attractive middle-aged woman wearing a grey cardigan exit the house, Beth noticed she held the old woman’s rosary in one hand, and in the other—a letter.

Walking towards Beth with a smile, “My mother wanted you to have this.”

Dearest Beth,

My story is now ending and yours is just beginning. Don’t give up on love, but do be cautious! Keep your sword at hand at all times while allowing love to unfold naturally.

Like the rose who has sharp thorns which may prick your finger, she also heals with the softness of her petals…

My daughter, Catherine is an excellent storyteller and well trained.

Goodbye, my dear.

May the Holy Spirit guide and hold you close.

Beth looked into Catherine’s eyes and saw years of love and compassion well up and spill over with a smile and a brush of her hand, “Shall we go inside and have a cup a tea?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Inside the familiar parlor, the two women settled into comfortable old chairs; each feeling gratitude infuse with the fragrance of roses and sandalwood rising with their spirits and then—knock knock knock on the door.

Beth’s face lit up, “Andrew–”

The End.

–NZain💓

Grandmother Storyteller Chapter 7: The Letter

April 18, 2020

Continued from Chapter 6: Emerging From the Dream

The young woman got up, looked down at her hands, “It was just a dream.” But she knows some scars are seen only on the inside; and some wounds, if left unattended, never heal.

Coffee in one hand, pen in the other, she sat down to write a letter:

Dear Andrew,

Hi. About the thing that happened between us—I’m concerned. As long as the elephant remains in the room, and we ignore it hoping it goes away, we are just making things worse for us.

I love you too much to do that and while it’s breaking my heart watching you struggling and I wish you could open to me, I also accept that I can’t struggle for you. It was naive of me to think I could follow you to ‘the ends of the world’—some places I just can’t go.

Maybe you would be willing to talk to a professional? Know that you have my full support!

I’ve also been talking to someone—and she has helped me so much! Do you remember the old lady with the pretty rose garden, the woman we called ‘grandmother’ and were so frightened of as kids? I’m going to see to her this afternoon…maybe you would like to meet her?

Love,

Beth

PS. I’m breaking up with ‘us’. You see, I’ve met someone special I would like to get to know better—me.

Beth sealed the envelope with a kiss, headed straight to Andrew’s apartment and quietly taped the letter to his front door. With a sigh and a prayer she quickly walked away thinking only of grandmother.

To be concluded…

–NZain💓

I had some help writing this letter:

https://www.addictioncampuses.com/blog/loving-yourself-while-loving-a-person-with-addiction/

https://dualdiagnosis.org/drug-addiction/relationships-and-addiction/

https://www.northpointrecovery.com/blog/change-relationship-addict/

Grandmother Storyteller Chapter 6: Emerging From The Dream

April 14, 2020

Continued from Chapter 5: The Dream

“So you think you are strong enough to contend with me, silly little girl…”

But then, the spider-woman seeing the sword, knowing the immense power the girl held—drew back a step.

“My but what a pretty sword!” she cooed, “You really should be more careful. You might hurt someone.”

“Who are you?” The girl asserting herself demanded an answer.

“A friend of your friend. A clossse friend. I would like to your friend too.” The spider-woman came within whispering distance to the girl; the girl tightened her grip on the sword.

“You are no friend. You only use who you need to keep yourself alive.”

“Oh come now, don’t be such a drag! Have a little fun…relax a bit…he might even like you better…”

“You are NO friend!”

“I AM HIS PAST and it’s ME he loves!”

The girl raising her sword with both hands high above her head, “Don’t talk to me of love! You know NOTHING of love!”

Spiritus Sanctus

fortitudo mea!*

And she with all her might brought the sword down cutting off spider-woman’s leg; but not before spider-woman sank her fangs into the girl’s hand.

Both screamed out in pain. The monster retreated into the shadows.

The boy hearing the screams, “What have I done?” And coming to the girl’s side, “My love, you are injured because of me.”

“Quickly now! Take my sword and finish it…” The girl stopped herself searching the boy’s eyes for an answer she so desperately wanted to see; however, she knew what she must do. Plunging the sword into the ground—in the space in between—she looked deep into his eyes, “For if and when you are ready, my love.”

The boy thanked the girl and then, “I brought you here to this dark place and you have shown me courage and compassion, giving me strength to face this beast within myself. But I see now this is mine alone to overcome. I must face her alone.” And then tenderly kissing the girl’s wounded hand, “How will you ever forgive me?”

She looked up, smiled (‘By the love of My sacrifice’) and said nothing…

When the girl reached the edge of the dark woods, there standing in the sunlight was an attractive middle-aged woman wearing a grey cardigan, “I’ve been waiting for you”

The girl surprised, but pleased to see the woman, “How did you know I..”

“Show me your hand.” And turning over the girl’s hand to inspect the spider’s bite, “Hmm…you will probably carry this scar for the rest of your life, but in time, it will heal; and the pain will fade…”

With a gasp the young woman emerged from the dream, jumped out of bed and immediately set out to the task at hand. She knew now what needed to be done.

–NZain💓

To be continued…

*Holy Spirit

be my strength.