Tamara Willems

and then to the silence of lambs…

After a particularly hellish week, I am in need
of silence ..
my own,  I suppose
the kind of quiet I am seeking is not even an external quiet
but rather an internal one
complicated situations at work have driven me into a chaotic sort of monkey mind
that refuses to shut itself off
trying to find reason and resolution
to issues that are not
to somehow finding common ground
rationale and
simple (or to me seeming simple) Kindness
things pecking away at my brain in constant repetition
situations to be resolved
yet beyond my control
I am, as well,  still feeling the weight of someone else’s
and after spending last weekend sick, I am needing to
catch up
and yes, all of this reeling In my head, (and always in my heart)

leaves me to wonder
why we do this to ourselves

a lovely friend has invited me for a ‘girls weekend’
and my husband appears rather frustrated with me as he can’t understand
just why I am not going
it’s one of those times where I think, ‘why doesn’t he know me by now?’
I try to explain how I am feeling spent
and in need of
‘my’ space
I guess this sounds rather odd, as I spend most of my time here
and I do love this friend, and spending some time with her
would be wonderful
and fun
but right now, I am in need of my own sort of
down time

I need to go within
to putter around clearing my space
of clutter and worry
to dust and sweep, rearrange and reorganize
I need outstretched arms that touch
nothing but open space and
beautiful, serene
this is not to say that my house is quiet, quite the opposite really
but that I myself am in need
I need soft
and fresh…
I need kindness
and caring…
I need grace,
I need

and so,  because I really do care about myself
I do myself the honour
of caring
I take a very large deep breath
of peace
slowly drowning out the riotous noise
in the next room
I look out the window, and up at the trees
instead of the cold whipping winds
dull skies and pelting freezing rain, quickly changing to snow
I am somewhere in the English countryside
in a lovely stone cottage
or possibly it’s a sprawling gargantuan country estate
in desperate need of restoration
looking out at a fantastically wild, largely over populated
english garden
green fields,
and maybe just a little father on, I believe
I can see
sheep…  ♥



 Surrey Cottage by Helen Allingham (1848-1926)

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