We have a bit of snow on the ground this morning, having fallen from gray skies on a day where the sun stays about as low as it can be in the year.
On such a gloomy day, it is easy to reflect on the voids in my life, the empty spaces. My thoughts echo in the caverns of loneliness, where a dream launched into the hollow just rumbles a bit before fading away.
I have gone through all the words in the world trying to share myself with the world, struggling to make a connection which lets me be seen, understood and valued by the people around me.
Maybe if I had started sharing earlier, when I was less complicated, I would have been able to catch them and take them along with me. Trying to get simple now, though, just feels like erasure and denial.
I can parcel out what I have in a way that supports and informs their life, and they love that, but it still leaves me feeling null and void. I do the work to reflect them, to assure them I hear and understand what they are sharing before offering them a new vision, but their work to acknowledge, understand and mirror me is limited.
Saying this all again, for the zillionth time, well, it feels pointless and empty. I have said it so many ways and so many times that it just sounds like an echo, fading in the distance, noise that will only be perceived as an ugly rumble people wish would go away.
Maybe, someday, somehow, people could start paying attention and hear me. Maybe I should just stop whining, compartmentalize myself, and just do what people want and expect of me, offering bits of what I have in nice, disposable packages. Maybe feeling this worn out is just not right.
But nothing is infinite, you know?
Well, except maybe the void.