In the hook of the split.
Where the rubber hits the road.
My body, my koan, my people.
Humanity writ upon the body.
(a short poem in four lines)
In the hook of the split.
Where the rubber hits the road.
My body, my koan, my people.
Humanity writ upon the body.
(a short poem in four lines)
Reminds me of Haiku .. very evocative, I can relate. The post meds life for me is all about living with uncomfortable realities, accepting indeterminacy of life, the mind, body and spirit, and also facing into the conundrum that some things may never resolve… and maybe that’s ok…
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Yes, I think so, however often post meds- folk (if that’s a demographic?) can feel like aliens. Some of us are changed beyond recognition to ourselves, and that can be traumatic. There is a strange comfort, for me at least, in surrendering to the trauma, and trauma is familiar to me and that way, perhaps it can be muddled through- kinda like bracing through crap weather. You certainly learn levels of tolerance and adaptability that many others will perhaps never know, until old age or death. We die a million times on meds, and in withdrawal. It’s all part of our paths, I guess..
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Yes that’s all we can do.
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