"What is trust when we are tired?" I felt this in my bones. Feel better, my friend.
Disclaimer for my poem. I completely understand and agree that sometimes words, and presence, are the only things that someone can offer and that is indeed a gift.
I have a complicated history
with this word.
For too long it's been used
against real-life situations
that need more than platitudes
to get a person through.
"If you trust_________ then..."
You telling me to trust that
it will work out eventually
does not excuse you from helping me
now.
You could be the answer to complete
my trust
but instead
you abuse my trust
more
by
walking over to the other side of the road.
Am I supposed to thank you for your words?
We have been given a
healing, restorative
way to be in the world
(I refuse to use the word 'mission')
Don't ignore me in your quest for higher holiness.
Remember to shop for the plants that are deer-repellant! I don’t even trust that there is such a thing after the devastation of last year’s planting! Ah, what is life itself but a crapshoot? I think I’ll just sit here and enjoy the breeze. The delphiniums can wait until tomorrow.
If trust is a fall,
my instinct is to crochet
a net as wide as a canyon,
gather the threads of doubt
and dread and never
again will I be taken a fool.
If trust is a fall,
I construct my safety
net, make knots
from the pit of my stomach
the night you told me you lied
about that, double crochet
through side glances and promising
nothing, skip a stich or two
or hundreds of heartbeats
to slow down when memories
weigh in their habitual opinions.
If trust is a fall,
I’ve fallen far before,
still waiting to hit the ground,
my fingers wrapped in yarn.
My deepest wounding from the
theology and orthopraxy of
atonement theory and total depravity
is the relationship of trusting my
body, trusting my Knowing, trusting abundance, and trusting goodness.
Control, discipline, rigidity
created felt safety and
covered over this wound.
I’ve gradually been rebuilding trust
but the wound is now uncomfortably
exposed as my body cries out for a
trust I couldn’t even imagine for myself.
Confusion and mis-signals
bring discouragement after years
of chronic illness and restricted,
regimented protocols.
Trust requires relationship
Rebuilding trust takes time
What would it look like to
sit in the pain and discomfort
without an anxious desire
to understand and fix it?
Perhaps this is trust
“I know you better than you know yourself”
I was told,
and I believed them.
I believed I was a stranger to myself
undeserving and unknowing of my own path.
How much better to rest in other people’s judgment!
How much simpler to follow the rules
instead of my heart
(my desperately wicked heart)!
‘’’
But here I am
walking amid the ferns and firs again
and asking the same questions:
What if others didn’t know me better than I know myself?
What if I can trust my heart
(my open and vulnerable heart)?
What if the Spirit was more important than the rules?
Through the clouds, I glimpse blue sky.
CW: sexual abuse, weight/body image
.
.
.
I was taught not to trust my body.
That she was dangerous,
not just for myself,
but for others.
"The ways of the flesh,"
"a stumbling block,"
"modesty."
That she was too much,
not just for myself,
but for others.
"Carbs are the devil,"
"sugar is addictive,"
"lose weight fast!"
That she didn't belong to me --
not just for myself,
but for others.
"Your body is a temple,"
"boys don't like ---,"
"how to be sexy:"
But I was just a child when my body was
sexually abused by someone
I was supposed to trust.
I was taught how to hate the size and shape
of my body from people who
I was supposed to trust.
I dissociated to distance myself from the
body I was told I should have by those
I was supposed to trust.
If I trusted my body
that would be
dangerous.
If I trusted my body
I would be
too much.
How could I trust
what isn't
mine?
My body
whispered
love and care to me.
When I
ignored her,
she began screaming
until I
had no choice
but to listen to her.
My body
told me that I am
not responsible for my abuse.
My body
told me that my value is
not dependent on my size or looks.
My body
told me that
I am my own,
and I trust her.
"What is trust when we are tired?" I felt this in my bones. Feel better, my friend.
Disclaimer for my poem. I completely understand and agree that sometimes words, and presence, are the only things that someone can offer and that is indeed a gift.
I have a complicated history
with this word.
For too long it's been used
against real-life situations
that need more than platitudes
to get a person through.
"If you trust_________ then..."
You telling me to trust that
it will work out eventually
does not excuse you from helping me
now.
You could be the answer to complete
my trust
but instead
you abuse my trust
more
by
walking over to the other side of the road.
Am I supposed to thank you for your words?
We have been given a
healing, restorative
way to be in the world
(I refuse to use the word 'mission')
Don't ignore me in your quest for higher holiness.
Trust – an acrostic
Tenderly
Reminding myself that
Under all circumstances
Someone up there is
Taking care of me
Trust
During recess, every once in awhile I get called over because:
“_______ is stuck on the monkey bars and can’t get down.”
I used to reply with
“Let go and I’ll catch you—trust me.”
Now
I walk them through how to use their body to get down independently
And I praise how capable and strong they were—without my help
It has worked every time
…
There won’t always be someone there to catch you when you get stuck
It’s good to have trust in Others
But it’s better to have trust in Yourself
A trust haiku
Takes time to build trust,
but mere seconds to tear down
How will the heart heal?
Trust
has been harder to write about
remembering trauma
had me triggered
through 4 infinity poems
as things are overloaded
in my thoughts
I realize
trauma still affects me
but I am healing to the point
I can be vulnerable with strangers
sharing poems
because this is part of healing
trusting again
slowly
intentionally
I am still centering and trying to be fully present
but I am grateful
for this opportunity
and these people
Buy it?
Sell it?
Steal it?
Screw it?
maybe just give it.
maybe when I'm really scared.
maybe psalm 56:3.
When you live in Northern Wisconsin,
It’s difficult to trust a day like today -
Warm enough to break a sweat
And a breeze cool enough to bring relief.
Do I dare take a trip to the greenhouse?
Remember to shop for the plants that are deer-repellant! I don’t even trust that there is such a thing after the devastation of last year’s planting! Ah, what is life itself but a crapshoot? I think I’ll just sit here and enjoy the breeze. The delphiniums can wait until tomorrow.
I trust in God more than anything else,
I really do
I trust in the God I know as the Divine, the
Great Spirit, the Mystery, the pulse running through
All of life, and as Jesus.
I trust in the God who is to me like the Waiting Father,
In Jesus’ parable.
Always welcoming me and all people
Home. Aways, everyone. No questions asked.
I trust in a God who is our home, everywhere at
All times, in all things.
I trust that God is present in a way
That is relational.
Sometimes I sense that in the next
Prayer breath I take,
Sometimes in a conversation with this
One particular oak tree
Sometimes in communion with
Another soul.
I trust in God, mystery, great spirit, the divine,
The always in with and under all things, more than I
Trust in anything else.
And almost every day, that is enough, and it
Leads me to trust in a few other things
As well… Amen
Trust is a funny thing
we look outside ourselves
to find it
Forgetting where it starts
Trust is the well inside
Deep and present
It is knowing
It is my body
This body
The one who has always
carried me
will always carry me
my one companion
from birth to death
How could I not trust her
when she has been me
all along?
Heart behind my heart
Holding sorrow, love, and Light -
Just like you and them.