Dear Tomorrow…

Dear Tomorrow,

It’s today, really, but it feels like you are still tomorrow, because it’s dark outside and I have yet to go to sleep. My parents will be here tomorrow. Yes, today. And I am too old to have my parents staying here with us, but I offered, because we have a funeral to go to on Friday morning. That is what family does. Today sucked but in a good way. Busy, slammed. I got bogged down in silly things. But I did sneak some time to start a painting for my grandmother. She calls me bluebird so I’ll paint her one. She’ll be 89 this month and I can send the painting home with my mom. This means I have to finish the painting tomorrow. Today. And my mom will probably want one too. I can’t paint on demand. How do artists do it?

Tomorrow, I used to worry about you and dread you. I regretted yesterdays and I held my breath until the todays were over. I wished my life away. Time stands still. And then it whips by like a deja vu. A memory I have had before. Who am I becoming? Now that I can’t hide anymore?

I’m on the brink of understanding that all things have led to this very moment. It all makes perfect sense. Shouldn’t “it” all just disappear then, and become a clean slate? Ha. Tomorrow, you cruel, cruel prankster. You like to watch us dance and keep us on our nervous little toes.

Tonight, I wish for peace of mind. I wish for sleep and no nightmares. I wish to wake up refreshed, and without any knowledge of how tired I am right now. My body hurts from head to toe. It’s a mental game. Pain. Is it real or did I paint it on command?

Although I have told my parents everything that has happened to me in life, I think they have selectively forgotten. Or perhaps I am the one left holding the bag, feeding the monkey on my back, hanging on. When people have shit in their past, it must be scooped out, then flushed with clean water and fresh air, then reborn as a deep open space filled with possibilities. There is no **poof**….and tomorrow it is gone.

I know they wonder what the hell EMDR is and why on earth I am subjecting myself to it. So does my amazing boyfriend who just wants to see me happy. I wish I could easily explain why yesterday matters today. And why tomorrow I pray for it to be gone. Today.

So I will paint my face in smiles and bright, attentive eyes. I will show up for the funeral and for my gramma who couldn’t make the trip. I will get through the 2 days of parental house guests. And it will be over before the next tomorrow worries me. I don’t want anyone to wear black at my funeral. Let them wear rainbows.

I’m just so tired. My mind has been activated. My body is awakened. My spirit is anxious to get down to work. We want to dance and play and laugh and twirl and create spontaneous paintings, unconcerned about the outcome or judgement.

Just for tonight, I am glad it’s already tomorrow. It’s like living in a crack of time that does not technically exist.

Do something beautiful for someone today. Smile at a stranger. Give yourself a break. Believe in magic. It happens.

Love and always Kissing,

The Cockroach

Copyright © 2018 Kissing The Cockroach All Rights Reserved.


~ by Kissing The Cockroach™ on March 15, 2012.

5 Responses to “Dear Tomorrow…”

  1. I believe in magic. 🙂 Tomorrow is a beast! It loves twiddling its thumbs and watching as we squirm. I want to remove tomorrow from my vocabulary and just start using the days of the week… think that will work?
    I hope your parents are good house guests and that you get the painting finished… tell your Mom you will send her one soon. Working under pressure is straining.
    And funerals.. straining too.
    Thinking of you!! Sending the positive vibe in your direction…so no pulling hair out. 😉

  2. I love this piece. I didn’t realize you are also an artist?? Isn’t it strange how there is so much in life that we are forced to do on command? And your parents… Sometimes it is just easier to forget than it is to remember. I will come dressed as Iris to your funeral. Finish your lil bird and cherry blossoms (two of of my signs)- feathers are powerful. Read Animals Speak by Ted Andrews. Finish your painting tomorrow- I mean today!!!

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