Once Again, Ouch

Well, golly darn and gee whiz. I'm in Ouchland again. After my last post, I was intending for the next one to be upbeat. Jolly. Full of joy.

Oops. Didn't quite make it. That's why I put in this oh-so-lovely picture of the last bouquet of California poppies of the season. I'm trying to make myself smile. It's nearly impossible for me to be sad, when I look at these beauties.

Along with some hard work on my house, like ripping up carpet, moving heavy furniture . . . .

. . . and painting walls . . .

I'm also doing some renovation of the soul. Some reconstruction of the heart. And it's hard. I pricked my fingers on some carpet tacks earlier this evening. I can handle that. What really hurts is the follow-up email I just sent in which my bruised heart spoke.

In my half-century so far, I have not accumulated a very good track record with men. I do my best to give honesty and kindness, love and compassion. But so far, that sort of offering has pretty much backfired.

I won't give up. That's just not in me. But I do wish I could learn more of what I'm doing wrong.

In the meantime, I'll pull up some more nasty old carpet.

What are you working on in YOUR life?

Ouch

I searched through my photos for a shot I was sure I'd taken a week or so ago. My gorgeous sunflowers had finally given up their last blossoms. The tangled brown mess of naked stalks and empty seedheads spoke of the end of a luxuriant growing season.

I was gonna post that here, to mirror the way my heart feels right now. Empty. Blossomless. Unbeautiful. But I can't find it. Maybe I just dreamed I took it.

And maybe I shouldn't be posting these thoughts. Maybe I should be digging deep for something inspirational. Usually, no matter what, I hang in there until I can see daylight. Hope. But not right now. Not tonight.

I had yet one more hearthurting time with a man tonight. I know that, the way I'm made, I am unable to do anything but keep my heart open to love. But that also means being open to hurt. And boy howdy, I've had a lot of that lately. Actually, for as long as I can remember.

No, I'm not giving up. I can't. Probably would if I could. But I can't. My faith in God, Love, is too deep and strong. I've learned from sad experience that a sore soul does heal.

I know that soon, maybe tomorrow, maybe even sooner, perhaps in the dark before dawn, I will feel the pulse of hope restarting my heart. I will review all there is to be grateful for. I will find something outside myself, something to do for someone else.

But for tonight, I hurt.