Life feels very mysterious to me at the moment. I am observing it and I have no idea what the fuck is going on. I am trying to just roll with it. I have so many feelings swirling in my mind and heart that are writing themselves into a lot of poetry and singing themselves out through a new inspiration to play guitar.
I think a lot of it has to do with me coming off of Cymbalta (Duloxetine HCI – SNRI – Antidepressant/Anti Anxiety medication). I didn’t know it, but it was indeed suppressing some of the purer aspects of my being. No wonder my creativity fell away. My creativity resides in my feelings that were then drowned in chemical waters.
I knew/noticed that my creativity had gone when I went on antidepressants. I used to write poetry every day. I have hundreds, possibly thousands, of poems on my hard drive that I began writing in 2005 (ish). I used to play guitar (a little) as well. Also, I noted that my sacral chakra has been blocked up until maybe 6 months ago when I became aware of it (the sacral chakra – the seat of one’s creativity).
As you can see from this blog, I am writing more and more poetry once again… I am feeling more.
And we could speak of concern about me falling back into depression and sleepless nights, that this is a precursor to that. But this time it’s different. I am more whole. I am who I truly am in these days, more than ever before.
I don’t just feel the sad songs, I feel the happy songs too. I hear their joy and I can embrace it. I feel my pain and I can face it. (<—just the thoughts in my head are becoming more and more poetic, also).
I am more aware of my pain and it hurts. I am also more aware of my joy, and that’s…something else.
I’m actually taking some serious spiritual steps towards healing my broken heart and the unintegrated aspects of my consciousness at the moment. I’m braver than I was before.
Summer has left and I barely noticed. But now as I do, I look out the window and I see the grey and I’ll admit, I am struggling to see the beauty of that. But the point is that I want to, the point is that I am trying.
I suppose Autumn is a time of change, a time of mystery. Perhaps Autumn will teach me how to allow my bright green to gently fade to gold. Gold is beautiful. I like gold.
There are silhouettes singing in the trees
Somehow blowing the wind that sways the leaves
And Autumn, she calls me
She is all my dreams of untouched sighs
And quiet minds, tired eyes
I see gold through all of the mystery
That surrounds me
I see gold growing all around me
Weaving through the gardens that could be
Delicate loops of hope
She holds all of my dreams
And she grasps them carefully
And I look to see
If what I want will be
But all I see
– Rebecca Elizabeth Anne