The Rise

I’m tired of making sense. It’s like I’ve got to stretch to fit and it’s not working. Life doesn’t always make sense. Why should I bend over backwards, crane my neck, and break blood vessels in my eyes just to make it all appear flawless and put together? Nothing is perfect or flawless. I was right when I began; I can take all of this. Only, my definition of “this” has changed. I can take whatever I need to. And I realize what I need isn’t the world spinning. To let go is to cry from my lungs, to let my soul shiver in the darkness, the cold that seeped in. To let go is to warm with the silence seeping from inside me until I can feel it, wiping away the pain.

I said something on twitter the other day that didn’t make sense. I do that. I speak sometimes without understanding myself, where it came from, this nonsense. What I think is really happening is I’m escaping through fissures. I’m breaking and its saving my life.

“Something witty. Something lovely. Something inspiring. I don’t know. I know the silence hiding within, trying to pour out into my skin.”

“When the silence spills into my lungs, I think it’s time to hear it.”

Ring Around the Rosy Meaning

When I was a munchkin, I’d often sing this song:

 

Ring around the rosy,

Pocketful of posy,

Ashes, ashes,

We all fall down!

 

We’d dance in a circle and fall down at the end, smiling and laughing, then get back up and do it all over again.

 

 

A popular theory of the origins connects this nursery rhyme with the Bubonic Plague.

People reason thusly:

When you have the bubonic plague, red circular rashes form on the body, connected to “ring around the rosy”.

A “posy” is a bouquet or small handful of flowers. People would often stuff their pockets full of herbs, in hopes that they wouldn’t catch the bubonic plague.

“Ashes to ashes” is representation of cremating all the dead plague victims’ bodies.

Obviously, the whole world seemed to be falling down at the time. Everyone everywhere was dying!

 

In reality, the rhyme has nothing to do with the plague.

The bubonic plague struck in the 1340s. This rhyme is first recorded in writing in 1881. Folklorists have a hard time believing it survived orally this long before anyone decided it was cool enough to write down anywhere, ever.

 

So what on earth does it mean?

Who knows.

My best guess?

Someone has a pocket of flowers.

Ashes to ashes is a popular phrase, “ashes to ashes, dust to dust”, touching on how when we die we end up as dust, eventually. I have no idea if that’s what it means, but it’s the first thing that comes to my mind. Then again, I do write fantasy and horror and my mind instantly goes to fear, love, or food… so….that could simply be me.

If not, what are the ashes talking about? Ashes only come once something or someone has been burned. Ashes of your dead loved one? Ashes of your burned down home? Any way you throw this one, it doesn’t seem all that perky.

“We all fall down” gets me. We’d go from dancing merrily in a circle to falling down. Is this a comment on how no matter how beautiful life is, we all die? Or regardless of how positive a life we live, we’ll all fall down at some point – the otherwise positive feel of the rhyme edging us on to get back up and start dancing again?

As for ringing around a rosy – you got me there.

 

 

Honestly, I’ve never really thought about it before.

I thought the bubonic plague theory was kinda cool, as it was spooky.

Once I found out it wasn’t connected to the plague, I never thought to try to piece the rhyme to anything sensical.

Personally, I like the metaphorical meaning that we should move through life with happiness stashed in our pockets, and though terrible things happen and mistakes are made, get back up and keep on singing and dancing through our life, as best we can.

 

 

What does this rhyme mean to you?

 

Sources: http://www.snopes.com/language/literary/rosie.asp and http://blog.dictionary.com/hidden-nursery-rhymes/

 

Loving and Letting Go

The WordPress prompt for today is “lovingly”. (I’ve never tried a daily prompt before, so I checked their page out.)

 

The first thing that I thought of was a baby lizard I found when I was a munchkin. I carried the lizard around for hours until my grandmother convinced me to let it go back where I found it.

I wanted to take care of it. I wanted to keep the lizard safe and happy.

“If you love it,” she said, “let it go”.

It’s funny to me that my child brain understood that.

How did I understand that?

There was so much pain and fear going on in my life as a child – but I understood love.

I wanted that little lizard to be happy, so I put it back on the fence where I found it, hoping it made it back to its family and lived happily and safely.

I was a little sad to let it go, but I was confident that it would be better off in its lizard world, not my human one.

 

lizard-357183_1920

 

This prompt brought a few animal memories back to me.

I never realized how much I wanted a baby animal to keep and play mom to. I was always dreaming of finding a bird egg and keeping it, hatching it, and raising the little bird in its own little habitat I’d create for him/her.

I never wanted to be a mom to an actual human baby. As a child, I wanted a fluffy little bird, duck, lizard, owl, kitten, or something wild that I’d find outside and keep. I had this overwhelming urge to find and protect every little animal I came into contact with.

Of course, if you take me to a shelter now, I have the same reaction. Maybe a bit more psycho. I want to take all the dogs home!!!

 

I find it interesting that my small, child self understood love on such a pure level. I remember the feeling it evoked. Love was something beautiful and perfect. It was a balm, a safety that couldn’t be contested. And I always equivocated it with animals.

 

(wrote this sometime early February)