Conversations with My Body
She tries to communicate with me, and I hear her, but I don’t always know exactly how to respond. I don’t always understand the language. Lately she uses the language of pain. It’s loud but imprecise. ‘There’s a problem here,’ she yells, but I can't decipher exactly what it is. I have to get help with the translation.
Sometimes even the translators can’t be sure. ‘Well it could be this, but on the other hand that particular expression can mean….’
Part of the trouble is that life is so busy. I do have a way of understanding – of sitting quietly, touching her, tuning in and listening; taking care of my side of the communication, which is to receive the message. I could do that, once. But now I am living the single life, doing everything myself: in attending to so much, I pay too little attention. The quiet times of listening deeply have slipped away unnoticed. I’ve brushed her off! I see it now. I’ve ignored her intimate whispers until she has had to resort to this repeated refrain of desperate shouts.
How could I so subdue my awareness? Travel so far from my self?
I stop
and lift a sea shell
to my ear
Poetic Asides prompt #3 : A communication poem.
Words from the skyloverpoetry list: intimate, refrain, subdue, sea shell.
Linking to Writers' Pantry #69 at Poets and Storytellers United, on 8 May 2021.
Seashell, like a telephone to the ear; my body, with its ongoing and increasing aches and pains of unknown origin, speaks but has no answers.
ReplyDeleteHaibunilicious work, Rosemary.
Beautiful, relatable in many ways, and so very capturing. Mayhem happens when we stop listening to her and giving her what she needs and she needs it. But I, too, understand the busy part. Some days we just seem to have so much to do... Then, time and our bodies come to collect. Hopeful, we'll be able to pay without screaming.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I LOVE the haiku!
Thank you. I hope to learn more balance and organisation!
DeleteJust being there with her, smiling and listening, knowing that she needs to talk and that's all you have to do. This haibun is beautifully written Rosemary.
ReplyDeleteThank you. That sounds like excellent advice.
DeleteI couldn't agree more with Robin. You just seem like such an aware person when I read your poems. I think she got your attention and you figured out what you need. Just a lovely haiku
DeleteThanks, Debi. It's making time to act on the awareness which can be problematic. I am such an awful procrastinator!
DeleteThese are the conversations we should all have, Rosemary, but it’s true, we have trouble responding to our bodies’ languages – and there seem to be quite few of them. We need to re-learn the habit of being quiet: top stop, sit still, be bored, meditate, dream, and then we’ll hear our bodies – and minds – again, just like your haiku, so simple and beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Kim. A matter of rearranging priorities, perhaps.
DeleteBeautiful and yes you have to listen to your inner self and your body. Hope you are all right Take care
ReplyDeleteThanks, Marja. Just the aches and pains that come with age. I do take as good care as I can.
DeleteI had to learn to listen to my body's signals, but I wish I had made more of a habit of it when I was younger. I've taught my children to be aware of those signs so they can be better prepared for when their future. I hope you get some time to tune into the messages more clearly so you can help things settle down.
ReplyDeleteMake a habit of it now! (Don't do as I did, do as I tell you.) I very much wish I had taken better care of my body when I was younger. I've been blessed with an excellent constitution – which only encouraged me to neglect my health, as I got away with that ... until I didn't any more. In particular, I wish I had done much more exercise! But wherever we find ourselves, it is always now. Any time we start with better habits is bound to have some good effect. Also, the sooner the better!
DeleteLuv that you stop to listen to that seashell. I have never tried it, but it is said , one can hear the waves if you listen to the seashell.
ReplyDeleteHappy Sunday
Much🌷love
Oh, Gillena, you MUST try it! And soon. It's really true. One of those big, coiled shells is best.
Deletei loved the title. sometimes we ignore our body so much that that the system inside has no choice but to let us know.
ReplyDeletethe haiku ending the haibun tells us you are trying to listen. :)
I listen now, but do I act? Yes, somewhat ... must do more.
DeleteYour cat, your inner self. Is there a difference? I feel ya.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Colleen, what a very insightful observation! I love the quiet wisdom in your poems, and also much appreciate it here.
DeleteI make every effort to listen carefully. Though I tend to have selective hearing! LOL.
ReplyDeleteAha, I know that one too!
DeleteSo important to take the time to be still and listen to that inner voice, and so easy to lose that time in the busy-ness of each day!
ReplyDeleteAnd somehow everything takes longer to do, once one has become octogenarian. Or so it seems.
DeleteRosemary, I am glad you and your body communicate with each other, some don't folk put off their aches and pains. I do one that is a little shy most times. And as of late my broken big toe and about ten upper teeth get attention as of late.
ReplyDeleteI liked your personification of the body which has no speaking voice and the "better days" haiku message clever ending to the haibin.
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Ah yes, we always have much fellow-feeling! I wish you relief from the pain of broken toe and those ten teeth.
DeleteI've always stressed communication between people - to listen to one another. Why is it that it's hardest to listen to ourselves? I firmly put myself into this category.
ReplyDeleteLovely reminder, Rosemary
Perhaps we're afraid of what we might hear!
DeleteListening to a seashell is a fantastic implicit metaphor for what your body is trying to tell you.
ReplyDeleteThank you! I'm really pleased that everyone understood it so perfectly.
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