James Ballantyne

Tag: conflict

  • Allowing Shit to Settle

    No thanks

    I’d rather pretend the shit didn’t exist thank you very much

    I’d rather add a whole layer of other stuff on top of it

    I’d rather pretend that the shit was actually roses without any thorns

    I’d rather do avoid the shit, and run and hide away

    I’d rather distract from the shit

    Id rather bypass the shit and say it was just God’s plan for me to endure

    I’d rather keep busy that sit with it.

    I’d rather cover it up with comforting food

    Or hope that entertainment soothes it

    Or scroll on Facebook to take on even more, or get annoyed at something else

    Or go to a football match or do some exercise to ‘get the anger out’

    I can’t allow it to settle

    That would mean accepting

    Feeling it, smelling it

    Sensing it in its fullest sense

    Realising that it exists

    And it has affected me

    And I feel sad, I feel angry, I feel hurt,I feel..what ever this dose of shit makes me feel

    Rage, hurt, tears, coming out, from amidst the shit

    And then

    The voice from within that says, you are not the shit

    I am not the shit, I am bigger than it

    I let it, but it isn’t devouring me, I can feel it, look at it, and realise that I am me, and the shit isn’t me

    Even if I am in it or have been given it

    It’s not a place to want to stay and now that I’ve felt it, I can move away

    And not keep it buried, hidden or avoided to come back to..and deal with, another day. Piling more and more above it

    Naming it, feeling it, sensing it, letting it settle, and be

    And breathe, and know, that I am more, I am bigger, I can see

    That there’s a way out, that I can take, and in the quiet of nothing

    That voice , that me, is waiting to speak, and heal, repair and recover, rebuild and remake

    And Ill look at the shit one day from a different place, and realise how far I am from it, and I needn’t look back, because I dealt with it once, twice or many

    Clean air awaits, entices and breathes, it’s fresh and it’s pure, green grass in the fields awaiting our feet

    It’ll only feel good when I haven’t cheated, and try to enjoy it with a bag full of shit, I’m still carrying around, or buried deep, hoping never to be found.

    Letting it settle and letting it be

    Is part of the way of making me free.

    (thank you to Gabriella Russo on Facebook for the image)