She put the world in her pocket and made the spinning STOP .
Footnote: When yoyoing sometimes it reaches the end of the string and at that point there’s no turning (spinning) back. It’s finished. No amount of tugging and pulling will get it going again. Much like a bad day. A tough time where you feel stuck. To get it going again, you have to reach down, take it into your hand, restore the string to its original place and start again. And life can feel like that. Like a spin that never stops. One we feel we have no control over. But how we ‘feel’ and the reality can be worlds apart so it’s a good thing to have regular stops to reset yourself. Ground yourself like this ‘Inks’ boots might suggest.
What are we going to do girls?
Footnote: The ‘Inks’ usually arrive on their own but one day things were really, really hard and so they all arrived together. Sometimes we have to call on others to help us work things out.
(Clunk & Jam book, 2019).
They thought they’d made her disappear. But giving up wasn’t in her repertoire .
(Clunk & Jam book).
Her heart leapt so impossibly loud it stole her every sense .
But it was always the book, held preciously close to chest, that caught and consoled her misbehaving mind.
(Clunk & Jam book).
It was a hold your nose situation.
Like getting out of bed in the morning … making a long put off phone call … taking the next step … or a difiicult one … venturing into unknown or familiar but rather not go places … facing a lurking fear … a dreaded occasion … but always, always well prepared for the consequences of her actions … or that which might be thrust upon her by those both, unexpected … and expected that could happen at any undesignated moment in time. This made her relatively secure in the knowledge of all subsequent happenings. Phew. No wonder her head was spinning.
Go Play On The Swings .
The want to ride way up high reveals much less. A moment in the middle that can’t be held. A view from above stolen from beneath. I go PLONK. Caught by the place where soles meet soil. Much nicer than hanging by a longing for a lift.
This little soldier had a history of plonks. Each time she played with someone she’d end up getting hurt, which left her wondering if she’d be better off never playing with anyone again. One day, dumped in yet another plonk, too weary to bound from the stillness that forever taunted her, she sat. And she sat. And she sat. It was in the sitting that she began to wonder if maybe her escape from the plonk would not come from never trusting again. Maybe the answer lay in trusting herself. Or perhaps playing only the games that held a balance. And knowing when it was time to go home before it got too dark.
(Reposted from 2012. Originally from handmade book, ‘Rock The Boat’, handwriting by Mags. Now in Clunk & Jam book, 2019)
