Singing the Storm

I’ve been struggling to put into words how I am feeling. Me, struggling with words. Me, who is often described to others as a wordsmith. Me, who is seldom at a loss for words and never for long.

I trawled my archive of poems and found nothing. I had a little rummage in the mindbox where I store half completed poems. Nothing. I wanted to add a photo but it seems almost impossible to add them right now.

I’m feeling frozen inside, numb, without feeling. All my responses are slowed down. It’s taken me two days to wrap, pack and send the presents for friends and family outside the UK. There were only four. I’m trying to get ready for this seasonal event that comes every year and yet I am never ready for. I collected together all my Christmas and Solstice related music CDs and started playing them as I was getting on with the chores.

One of my favourites of all time for this time of year is Maddy Prior and The Carnival Band’s Gold Frankincense and Myrrh, which has some real earthy and hipshivering stuff you could bellydance too. I found myself dancing. Now in some this is normal response to music. In me, it’s highly unusual and rather worrying behaviour and nor did it proceed out of joy. The dog got anxious as I pranced around the living room, bubble wrap in hand. I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on in me and I was far from happy about it. Imagine the scenario of the Red Shoes…

One of the songs is a real belter about the Queen of Sheba. I wish I were a clever bugger like J and could work out how to put a music link on here. I was washing up by this stage, and waiting for the washing machine to finish so I could hang out the clean clothes. My daughter came down and I said, rather to her surprise “I wish I could have met the Queen of Sheba” but then that’s a fairly normal thing compared with some fo the things I say. And then, though she didn’t see, I burst into tears because….well, I don’t know why. Because I will never meet the Queen of Sheba? I don’t know. Probably not.

I think it’s down to the fact that as I have written about before I can’t seem to get the hang of feeling the good STRONG emotions. I don’t really recognise them; they’re painful in so many ways.

The music I was playing is very lively, very sensual and emotive music, with intelligent and thoughtful lyrics and it was singing up a storm in me that I just couldn’t deal with. The chaos of emotions got channelled into a familar path, that of pain and longing and disappointment, and I lost the joy and the freedom that the music held. If I go now and play it again, the same will happen. I’ll get swept along for a short time with the buoyant wave of feeling before the dark comes to claim me again. I don’t know how to do it differently. 

I changed the CD after that and put on some classical flute music recorded by a very talented friend of mine but while beautiful, the music was cold and silvery, like icicles chiming as the winter wind blows them. It calmed me enough to compose myself and put aside the inner chaos. I can’t afford to let myself be swept away. I have things I must do and to break down now would be stupid.

But one day I want to sing up the storm myself and ride it out, like hitching a lift on a hurricane and see where it drops me.

I’d be willing to bet it won’t be Kansas anymore, Toto.

10 thoughts on “Singing the Storm

    • I didn’t come close to capturing what I feel because in so many ways, I don’t even understand it enough to isolate it and pin it down long enough to make a lot of sense.
      But thank you for your kind words and thank you for dropping by!


  1. This is all too familiar. I’ve never been able to analyze it, nor do I seem to realize what triggers it, but I know how it feels.
    Wish I could give you some answers, but the only answer I have is hypersensitivity, which cannot be cured and all my attempts to dull it have been in vain or have worsened the situation. They say it’s a special gift, but the price you have to pay is a lot of pain and disappointment.

    Anyway, you are someone special and you should never forget this.


  2. re “I’ve been struggling to put into words how I am feeling. Me, struggling with words. Me, who is often described to others as a wordsmith. Me, who is seldom at a loss for words and never for long.”

    I’ve been writing for a long time and if you will allow me to, I want to assure you that inspiration and creativity is never lost; sometimes it has to sit on the mind’s ‘back burner’ for a while because of other things crowding it out. I hope yours returns and from what I read it’s obvious to me that you have the gift of communication and you are a “wordsmith”.

    I’m glad I discovered your blog. I’ve put it on my blogroll and will follow your progress. I invite you to drop by my own blog sometime and take a look at diverse and varied poems. In the meantime thanks for sharing your pages. I look forward to reading more.

    Best wishes.


    • Thank you very much indeed; these are heartening words.
      I have had these dry spells before indeed, and things have returned. I think I get frustrated and impatient to use the winter time profitably when outside work is non existent.
      I shall be visiting, so once more, thank you!


  3. re “Thank you very much indeed; these are heartening words.”

    I’m honored to help. We try, each in our own way, to ‘reach out’ with our words and if the well-of-inspiration occasionally dries up we do feel it as a ‘loss’ of something that is precious… but the well fills again, as I say. You write beautifully. I am sure you will always inspire others with your words.

    Thank you so much for dropping by my pages. I am honored.



    • I’ve realised I need to sleep more as I had a lie in this morning and felt renewed by both the sleep and the extra dreaming…But how to manage this, I don’t know.
      I liked your blog very much; you’re a very skilled poet!


  4. I think I have almost got the measure of the various “bells & whistles” offered by WordPress and have now activated the ones I feel will help me to keep in contact with posts and comments.

    Because of my ‘learning curve’ in this respect I’m a little late in coming back to you here in follow up but now I thank you for your most kind and generous compliment.

    I hope you are able to find an answer to your rhetorical question – a “lie in” is usually beneficial when it gives the result you mention.

    Best wishes and regards.


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