No Ross, just myself
Beyond black and white to color accents
“You’re turning into a hippie!” Ross says with a grin.
Watching a transformation in the physical environment around me.
A safe, secure space, I now call home.
With the white walls of a quiet mind; colour accents to celebrate a slow and steady revolution of an inner peace.
I rouse with the gentle dawn to the lorikeets.
Alarms no longer required to stir me from disquiet.
I awaken, tranquil.
Sometimes through a peaceful daydream sequence; a previously strived for meditation now innate.
"You’re turning into a hippie!" Ross says with a grin.
Perhaps it’s when I restock my potpourri of vanilla, lavender and rose?
Or when he sees the incense spirals, a further sense released, of frangipani or sandalwood?
I’m rediscovering, with a process of reflection and evolution, a new era unfolding; my own affluence of simplicity.
I have moved beyond two washes of clothing, one black, and one white.
I am experiencing a visual revolution to a gentle expression of colour.
Healthy and considered with wellness on my mind.
I am not disaffected, I’ve closed the door on that, but opened onto?
A rethinking of my direction, and there’s the keyword.
‘Rethinking.’
My brain cognisant that driven flights into wellness, may not be my own.
Instead I focus on slow and steady progress, no hurry, with time to meander.
When I returned unwell and lost, I would cling with desperation to my son as he slept and whisper, “Please let me be worthy?”
Now content, to listen for the elusive gaps between sounds, I no longer cling to him.
And although some may not understand, it is our voluntary and agreed freedom that reassures us that I am indeed worthy.
Mother to son.
“You’re turning a hippy!” he laughs, with mutual understanding, perhaps anticipating my answer.
“No Ross, I’m becoming myself …”
Pauline Fountain. © 2021. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be used or reproduced without the written permission of the author.
About the Creator
Pauline Fountain
Writing and photography provide a creative outlet to reflect with meaning on my life.
My mental health? Bipolar 1 (Rapid Cycling), Complex PTSD and Functional Neurological Disorder.
My son’s gentle wisdom furnishes me with the gift of hope.
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Comments (3)
Gosh, this was so honest, raw and powerful! This poem made me so emotional and it was thought provoking as well! Loved it so much!
Ahh, that was such a wonderful honest part of your journey to share. I love that last line :)
Brilliantly said!!! Love it!!!💖💖💕