dd-aezuras - Tumblr blog

[dd-aezuras]

The day before dad died, I wrote a reflective poem about a dream I’d just had of a black panther guiding me through a rainforest. We met eye to eye as it climbed down a fallen tree, and I remember thinking that this was simultaneously the silkiest and most powerful creature I’ve ever been face-to-face with (dream me wants to pet the kitties, even if they’re deadly kitties).

I’d surmised the panther was a psychopomp (a guide for the dead and dying), re-assuring me I was on the right path in my exploration of death work. I saw synchronicities in my life, and reflected on destiny.

I was also reflecting on how I have always felt like I’m “in between”; not quite fitting in but not quite an outcast. I feel like I always have one foot in and one foot out. Doesn’t really matter what aspect of my life we look at.

Sometimes it feels like a blessing, that I am able to act as a bridge between both worlds. A gift to be like a chameleon and blend in with anything as needed. Other times I feel isolated, with no real home. I’d reflected on feeling clumsy as I work through this life. Like I’m always seeking a connection to ground me.

I closed off the piece with a prayer for strength, not knowing just how much I would need it the next day.

Looking back, I see that dream as everything I already mentioned, but I think it was a message from spirit that everything would be okay. It was a warning as much as it was a message of hope.

Again it’s that theme of duality. I see it everywhere. Both sides. All the time.

[dd-aezuras]

My grief is too hard to contain today.

So it spills out of me

In waves

Washing away cobwebs

In corners of forgotten pieces of my soul.

I grieve to remember;

my humanity;

The way my love grounds and centres me.

I grow tired of tears but thankful nonetheless;

I am blessed to love and be loved by many,

Even when this love feels

far

too

heavy.

[dd-aezuras]

Look here!

You’ll see that I’m doing just fine…

If you choose to only look at the blue of my eyes.

But! If you dare to stare…

Dare to see…

In the midst of these deep seas you’ll find fractured confidence like fractured glass on a golden compass;

I kind of know my way, on a good weathered day, but I’m lost.

I see golden lines trying to cover up broken times, not unlike repaired Japanese pottery.

My life has been a series of disorienting storms.

Even more so since I stepped away from societal norms.

My eyes are blue like the sea tides that chained, changed, and claimed me;

Eroded down ‘til I lost my humanity.

But I’m fine. In the same way that you’re fine when we exchange pleasantries.

[dd-aezuras]

As the veil thins, so does the thread that holds me together

It all threatens to let go, this peace I’ve gathered

How dare the world keep spinning, keeping me tethered

to capitalistic expectations

It keeps spinning, weaving new spools

Maybe I’ll be able to stitch my heart back into one solid piece

A broken heart is better than being heartless

[dd-aezuras]

Something my dad would say 😅

[dd-aezuras]

When it’s my time, I might do something like this if I decide on a resting place 🦇

Stay tuned for more #unhingedtombstones

[dd-aezuras]

I am sad.

Like rain.

It builds up, lazily.

Humidity gathers in higher altitudes, changes in pressure and temperature build momentum.

These clouds look deceptively light, swayed by winds and currents of air, but its weight will soon pummel down onto any surface it finds unprotected.

This storm creates a moment of pause.

Surrender to the gloomy greys that promise heavy downpours.

Let down your hair.

Nourish the lands that welcome this onslaught.

It’s time for new growth.

Thirsty beings lap up your tears at renewed streams (of hope);

A blessing;

Another day where needs are met;

Yours, and theirs.

Water is a force to be reckoned with.

I fear my sadness will build into flash floods or mudslides, harming those unfortunate enough to be in the way.

But what happens when it’s been too long since water last graced these shores?

Starvation; craving authenticity;

Building sense of urgency to run away and lose track.

I’ve been there before.

What’s more:

Sometimes I am stuck, frozen.

Seems like the grief I feel adheres me to the metal pole on the playground.

Words are not beyond me, it’s just that speaking hurts and I want to fix this and move on and never experience a cold winter day again…

Who let me stick my tongue there to begin with?

I’m not in my right mind.

This misty mind is scattered;

A moody morning blanket draped across the rolling hills.

Spread so thin.

The choices I make are lacking, if a choice can even be formed at all.

My days, lately, feel like shapeless forms meandering and getting lost.

[dd-aezuras]

My dad died almost two weeks ago, unexpectedly.

He always said ((HUGS)) in texts/messages. I was cleaning some things from his garage today and found some of his writing. Seeing his writing had me wrecked for about 30 minutes, but I got the idea for this tattoo. A family friend said to go on over and I got it done. I cried the entire tattoo; not ‘cause it was physically painful, but because of the emotional significance. The last time I was in that shop was when my dad and I got memorial tattoos for his wife.

The artist, Tash, told me that last visit was the first time she’d ever received a hug from my dad, and it was the best hug. So there she was today, bawling her eyes out with me while tattooing his signature hug into my hand.

It’s been a difficult experience, navigating all of this, but these little moments where I connect with others because of the impact my dad had on them has been really special to me.

[dd-aezuras]

I carry grief like the lights that dance in the dark northern skies.

It seems delicate, but reality is the lights form when charged particles collide with the atmosphere.

You may see beauty, but it’s messy where love meets the reality of loss.

Love transforms into grief instantaneously; a solar flare that threatens to make the world go dark.

Blackout conditions that ironically make the dancing light easier to see.

Feel the love you command; that’s a demand made by the gaping hole where my heart used to stand.

But my mind is tired of crystal blue tears falling from clear sky eyes. It prays for dawn; the sunrise; (anything, really); so we can pretend the mischievous eyes that mine mirror didn’t close for the last time.

[dd-aezuras]

I wonder if I have always been destined to be in-between.

It’s surely just coincidence that my birth name is the name of the psychopomp that dances in the dark skies;

That I’ve always been able to see all sides;

That I am drawn to the same darkness that forces endings and resets the cycle that we call life.

The darkness is a black panther in the trees, unseen, but all-seeing like the sun that shines down on the jungle- pouring into impossible places.

Golden eyes that promise change in the form of the end and new beginnings.

Luxe black fur that pulls in the light only to reflect and highlight the contour of muscles flexed in waiting;

Sheer strength and beauty as if anyone would want to stop it.

The panther calls and beckons me to follow through dense trees; I struggle, this is a road less travelled.

A lonely path winding through a land so foreign to me.

I swear those who came before me must not have been so clumsy and without direction;

I feel much like a babe taking their first steps with intentions of making it to the couch but finding the corner of the coffee table instead.

I can barely keep up with the demands made of me, preparing me for my life’s work.

Again, I don’t feel like I fit in this space, but maybe that’s part of it- finding comfort in the liminal and being okay with making your own grace.

I’m not religious but I pray for the strength of the panther ahead of me; For the will to continue this pursuit.

[dd-aezuras]

Juxtaposition:

I struggle with suicide on the park bench,

My child climbs the highest rung on the structure.

She’s filled with pride, but I’m filled with doom.

I worry that my doom will destroy the light she shines like a black hole that devours suns and universes endlessly.

She is a universe, unfolding and growing at incomprehensible rates;

Endless possibilities bundled up inside sprouting synapses and springy limbs.

Play time is over, and we’re both exhausted.

We both make it home. Now to make it to the morning.

[dd-aezuras]

You took the green winding path and crossed into the grey.

They thought you needed space and went about their day.

Forever,

They’ll wish they begged for you to stay.

[dd-aezuras]

Wishing Mothers and Non-Binary Parents a gentle day of acknowledgement for all they do, and all the ways they try.

I would also like to make space for loss, as we are a death positive space, after all. There are many challenges to be acknowledged, but whatever your situation is, your feelings around today are all valid, and there is space for all of it.

There’s an aspect of loss related to Mother’s Day that I find isn’t discussed often, so I would like to share a bit of a personal piece and bring it into the light. Feel free to add your experiences, comments, thoughts, etc.

Death isn’t always the loss of another person, or beloved pet. It is also about life changes, death of previous versions of self, relationships, careers, etc. Anywhere there is change there is loss, whether it is for the best, or not.

When I became a parent I was not prepared for all the ways I would grieve.

From the 30 hour labour that ended in an emergency c-section (the original plan was home water birth.. 😅) to today, caring for an independant, curious toddler- nothing about becoming a parent is what I expected it to be.

All that I knew about myself was challenged, lost, or changed. I’ve spent the last 3 ½ years re-discovering, re-learning, and re-evaluating my values, my identity, my relationship with my self, relationships with others, my life goals.

The grief with this process is so immense, and it’s challenging to deal with because that previous version always seems like it’s just out of reach. I’m still me when I look in the mirror, but I’m different. Friends are still friends and partners are still partners but the relationship has changed.

I also have to come to terms with the way I was raised. The ways it helped me and the ways it failed me. There is grief there, that needs to be walked through and acknowledged so I can be present for my kid.

Like most, I grew up believing I would love being a parent and that it will come naturally. I was not prepared to discover that waking up every single day and being a parent is a choice that you have to make.

I also learned that I don’t have to particularly like being a parent to still be present and capable.

Maybe this seems silly, but everything out there for expecting moms seems to rely on “natural mothering instinct” (whatever that’s supposed to mean), which just seems to be yet another layer of the mental load women tend to carry.

All of these realizations, lessons, and changes are growth and personal development, which is, objectively, a good thing. At the same time, the rate at which this growth has to happen is hard. This individual journey happens in the midst of navigating the normal and natural challenges of raising a little human.

The onset is relatively sudden too, since society isn’t realistic about these challenges and pregnancy “how-to” books don’t include a chapter called “Society failed you: A practical guide to navigating the personal restructuring journey of becoming a parent.”

There’s also the guilt and shame that comes with these things when your experience is not “the norm” (again, what does that even mean?). I felt shame because I was frustrated with my experience. I felt guilty, like I was a bad parent because I wanted time alone. I felt guilt when I had to put my mental health first so I could show up and survive. The relief I felt when I realized I could feel and need these things AND still be a competent parent was indescribable.

This is really just another example of how death work is life work. Our society denies the challenges of life, and in the process, alienates those who need the most support. Tackling taboo topics is hard but each time we make it safer and more comfortable to do so, creating space for change.

If you read all the way to the end, thank you for making space for this.

If you related to any of this, I see you, and hear you, and hold space for you. Maybe we should go for coffee 😅🤭

[dd-aezuras]

You must not know

How hard it is to get up

In the morning.

When the blood in your veins,

Feels like lead.

Pulling you down into the bed

When you should be up, instead.

You must not know.

The energy it takes to choose to stay

When everything about this place

Makes me want to fade away;

Slip into a sunset

And never be seen again.

You must not know

What it means to hate being.

Not anything specific,

Just… being.

Existing in this universe

At this particular point in the unfolding

As if it could mean something.

You must not know

The ebb and flow of sanity,

How it slips like sand between wide spread fingers.

It’s there, and there’s lots of it,

But every time I shovel it properly

And have a pile of it in my custody

Life sends its jolts of electricity,

Thundering and lightning.

Controlling and threatening,

Seizing my body and forcing my hand

Wide open.

You must not know

The nasty voice that can exist in the mind

The one that says you can shine,

Shine all you want,

But your light? It radiates,

Carcinogenic shine,

The kind that takes lives.

You’re not good enough for the good kind of shine

No you must not know.

I give you the benefit of the doubt

Because if you did know

You’re the worst of it all.

I give you the benefit of the doubt

Because otherwise

Your actions hurt me.

You must not know

How it is to have thousands of conversations that never will be.

To be angry for something that was never heard, or done.

To grieve every potential

And every possibility.

You must not know.

[dd-aezuras]

whatever was left, that was ours for a while.

sunrise - louise glück

[dd-aezuras]

Some days, the choice to live uses all my spoons.

I need to take the day to recover, but I somehow equate rest with guilt.

I enter the ring to box it out with these thoughts, using spoons I don’t have.

“Ding ding ding”

I find myself in spoon debt, feeling like I’ve lost before I’ve thrown the first punch.

The game is rigged.

My loan shark looks up at me with a knowing gleam, thinly veiled greed; he bet big against me.

Waiting for me to lose my dreams to the “American Dream” is the capitalist’s wet dream.

Dear Mr. CEO of running me into the ground,

Use the spoons you stole to dig my plot.

May I rot into nothingness and comeback like a phoenix rising from the flame.

I’ll beat you at your own game.

Hell’s gate will be made of stolen spoons and silver platters.