I have a fist full of colors. Possibilities attached to strings I hold in my hand. A fist full of breath. A fist full of life that has yet to be lived. Colors of dancing begging to be released, longing to float, waiting to fly... but I hold them up to the sun and panic.
"What if?" I ask myself.
"What if?" I whisper to the vast blueness.
"What if I am not enough? What if I am too much?"
"What if no one comes to find me? What if everybody comes, but I can't be found?"
And the questions pluck the wings off butterflies.
They suck the air out of flight.
And suddenly what I am holding seems too small to have significance. Too many to expect them all to fly. Too few to think that if they did rise on the winds that any would weather the distance.
When I fist saw these colours they were not the strings in my hand attached to balloons, but the immature squiggles of coloring. My pudgy fingers clumped around a pencil I could not control and had no hope of using to turn into beautiful marks on a page.
The colors were just a mass of lines circling a page.
Free and wild.
Unplanned and unknown.
Some days at the bottom of wells I loose sight of the skies. Darkness places his cold face against my cheeks and curls his lips around lies. He nails rake across my skin telling me that I am empty. There no balloons. I never had anything worth releasing.
But I feel the tug at the end of strings. Something is in my hands. Something I care about. And I remember the colors. How I filled those childish drawings with life and longing. How I want things that matter. Things that were given to my heart to long for. Things that I want others to see. Colors. Free and Wild. Unplanned and still largely unknown.
When I climb up and out and find my feet beneath the skies again, I shake and shiver. The remnants of darkness that wants me alone and all to himself.
But I am here. Beneath the blue...
I have a fist full of colors. Possibilities attached to strings I hold in my hand. A fist full of breath. A fist full of life that has yet to be lived. Colors of dancing begging to be released, longing to float, waiting to fly...
Release them Tab. Nothing happens while you are holding on, except the holding. Let them go.
~
What about you? What do you hold in your hand and long to release?
your writing moves me so. Sometimes I think we only believe we're the ones holding the strings.
ReplyDeleteBTW, you won the book on my blog ;) email me where you would like the book sent. whiteplatonicdreams@ yahoo. com
This reminded me of the song 'Pocket Full of Sunshine'. It says something like 'and it's all mine'. That's not what I want. I want to share my happiness!
ReplyDeleteI love the fist full of colors image. And you took that one image to so many places. Loved it.
ReplyDeleteHelen
Straight From Hel
I fight the urge to hold on to my children. They are like those balloons, I let go and they fly away, I have no control. We never do.
ReplyDeleteI have begun to do it. My words, ideas, dreams and stories. Writing has been my dream for 50 years but other things always got in my way--jobs, responsibilities. I wrote, but usually without duration or conviction. In college and in my younger days I wrote, but it seemed like time was longer then. Now I see time getting shorter and eventually going to run out. Now I need to write and let those words go. My blog and my NaNo novel have given me a good revitalization. Now to get noticed and maybe make a living writing and not be on the clock working to fulfill someone elses dreams.
ReplyDeleteYears ago I once had a job selling balloons--life is crazy sometimes.
Lee
http://tossingitout.blogspot.com/
I'm holding to my new self. She's so young, and learning how to fly...like your balloons! Beautifully written. And yes Tab, let them go!
ReplyDeleteThe hope and the unknown. You have beautifully captured it here.
ReplyDeleteI hold the dreams of becoming better. Of growing. Of learning. Of being open to the process of it all.
Love this post. Definitely let them go! The ones that don't fly are the ones we learn the most from. All good!
ReplyDeleteI am fascinated by the workings of your brain. Fascinated by how you think. I think every person needs to follow and read your blog. I cannot wait to read your memoire!
ReplyDeleteI hold on to so many things and desperately want to let go and keep a tight grip all at the same time. Talk about inner conflict. :)
One of my favorite posts ever. What am I holding onto? I need to think about this.
ReplyDeleteThank you Kjersten. glad you enjoyed it.
ReplyDeleteKatie, you make me smile. I cannot wait to have my memoir ready for you to read :)
Deb, will do :)
Tess, thanks. I love what you wrote. Yes and me too!
T.anne, thank you for your encouragement. It means a lot to me. and WOW thank for the book!
ReplyDeleteSusan- pocket full of sunshine- I like that.
Helen, thanks.
Elizabeth- so true!
arlee- love that we have the same last name! And thanks for checking and my blog!
Liza- ooh I love that! My new self is so young too. She is papery thin, still more breakable than I would like.
Wow, so beautiful! The picture is too... I'm going to sleep tonight dreaming of my colors...
ReplyDeleteBeautiful as always Tab. I wish I could write as beautifully as you do! Maybe that's what I'm holding on to-- learning, growing, reaching my full potential.
ReplyDeleteOh my, what a beautiful, RADIANT blog post. I just adore it, it makes me tingle with anticipation and feel like I want to grab the balloon strings and leap out into the blue unknown.
ReplyDeleteYou have this...this perception about life. It's just wonderful.
take care, and thank you for all your lovely comments on my blog, they lifted my spirits and delighted me no end. you have no idea how much it means to me. :)
xxx
Dear Tabitha, once again you have brought words to life. There must be a magic in your fingertips as you type, because when I read your blog, I feel light as if I'm flying. I have never read anybody else who has this strange effect on me. :)
ReplyDeleteI am holding on to myself. I need to let me go. I need to think, feel, move freely, to stop restricting myself and enjoy every minute to the full. I am slowly getting there, but it's a tiresome path.
Sarah, my absolute pleasure. Your writing and blog are like that fire and carrot cake you describe. I am so there with you in the words you write. Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteTira- oh this made me smile BIG TIME. Magic in my finger tips? gosh, I wish it were so, how I wish it were so. I am so glad you find the magic in my words :) I feel the same way about yours. Your writing is a pleasure to read.
Natalie- thank you. Lovely words to warm my heart by :)
WOOT! I love this. Hmmm, holding in my hand... well, there might be a small bit of unforgiveness toward a love one that I've been trying to release. It's sticky though and wants to stay. Heh.
ReplyDeleteMy favorite line in here was at the beginning. A fist full of breath. On its own it's ordinary, but where you placed it was perfect! I hope, hope you write like this in your memoir. It's awesome. :-)
ah.. i hold in my hand the same colors..
ReplyDeletemany shades of life that i experience...
green when sick, blue when cold, red when angry..etc!
i do wish to release these negative colors from my life!
Dear Tabitha, you have such an eclectic style that is truly your own. I love your ideas and thoughts. I think we all have a fistful full of dreams and vices. Love the analogy here. As for me, I hold a fistful of Self waiting to be released so I can fly and find life. I am dead inside flesh right now and long to be colorful and free much like yourself. Let go even if it's one balloon at a time. Feel the fear and do it anyway.
ReplyDeleteSharla
PS: I have a new blog now, no more She Poet but same layout.
What if? This is the question posed that forms the basis of a great mystery thriller. That's how I start my stories.
ReplyDeleteStephen Tremp
I'm getting more and more brave over the years about letting go. I used to feel I had to "save" things, ideas, words, etc... for just the right moment or project. But I'm getting to where I go for "it", and know that it might be a bust, but the more you let go, the more room there is for new balloons that are always waiting in the wings. (I don't feel like this everyday, but it's something I think I aspire to :)
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely beautiful! I come here sometimes just to read your inspirational writing. Thanks for sharing this glimpse of yourself.
ReplyDelete.......dhole
I love this analogy, Tabitha. It's a beautiful visual.
ReplyDeleteAs always you manage to transport me with your words. I love this post Tabitha!
ReplyDeleteI'm holding on to too many things. I keep waiting to be free and all I have to do is open my hands. God is waiting to fill them with everything that I need.
Thanks for stirring my spirit!
Thank you Tamika. I guess God fills our hands with what we are able to hold. My own hands are still quite small. My own feet still trying to fill the shoes I find inside me.
ReplyDeleteLisa and Laura, thank you for the comment :)
Donna, I am glad you enjoy it.
Margo- beautiful words. I want to get to that place too.
Stephen- yes, the 'what if' is a great start for a story.
Sharla. thanks :) I didn't think of it as being eclectic, but I think you are right. And I like that :)
Leo- me too! Less read and black, more light and softness!
I love you fist full of colors, Tabitha. It's beautiful and unstoppable. There are no limits.
ReplyDeleteAnother beautiful analogy. I hear those voices as well, acknowledge them, and then reach for the sky anyway.
ReplyDeleteI can see the colors vividly and I can feel the passion of your words, Tab. Your writing always captures me. Thanks for always being so heartfelt.
ReplyDeletePS. I left you a little something on my blog; make sure and stop by.
Thank you Lori. I believe in limitless skies too. I also fear them :)
ReplyDeleteDeb- thanks, yeah I will try :)
Ellie, Thank you for the award on your blog. I am so glad my writing captures you. Thank you.
I loved your balloons...your pudgy fingers and dreams. And I agree that nothing comes of holding so fiercly, except cramped fists. I would release me...allow flights that my safe and grounded self withholds.
ReplyDeleteFears are fine so long as they drive us to do better, rather than get us to not try at all.
ReplyDelete