Consequently: Dismay Visits Doubt

Tumultuous feelings
Triggered by the tumult,
Old losses and failures;
‘Unpleasant, unpleasant, unpleasant’
Came back to mind,
But intense feelings exploded upward.

Yet, this simple word repeated
Brought about the tiny shift
In perspective needed
To sit with this extreme emotion;

To acknowledge it
Is very difficult indeed,
But to deny it
Does no better.

This reaction is very old
And very deeply felt,
Powerful and real,
But nevertheless only feeling.

Where to go from here?
That’s the question
I seem unable to answer,
And that’s why these feelings are present.

What lies ahead?
I do not know,
And obviously my predictions
Are leaning in the most ominous direction,

I’ve no confidence,
But only fear;
I don’t even care what’s here!
And so I search for reassurance
But find instead a way of letting go
By persisting in my noting,
‘unpleasant, unpleasant, unpleasant.’

Consequent: Repetitive Resound

As if on cue,
The dastardly driller
Recommenced as soon as
Calm had settled in.

Here comes the latest installment
Of this endless lament,
But I’m prepared this time,
Or so I think,

But the work is intermittent,
And so I wait some more.
How ridiculous!
To live in such uproar!

Oh well,
Back to making my own noise
I go!
On with the show!

But only until
The next break,
Whenever that ensues,
And then it may be time for a snooze;

Or, such frustration and dismay,
Could go on all day;
I must find another way,
But I haven’t found it yet.

My composure is disrupted,
Interrupted by fight-or-flight responses,
Which I cannot control,
But only observe.

It’s all nerves
And they are not steel,
But only organic material
Not concrete like the walls
That reverberate during these overhauls.

Consequence: Restlessness

Slept badly,
Perhaps in anticipation
Of the new day’s racket,
But so far, none!

Resorted to assembling tasks
Which match the potential din,
Then wound up doing paperwork
Because of the quiet.

Running out of things to do
That involve no noise,
But still holding out
For signs of construction.

This old pattern
Which repeats every time,
It’s reactive mind
Carrying on as it does.

What the pattern is
Is what it is;
So, why do I
Get bothered about it?

I guess that’s part of
The habit too,
To rant and stomp
Over these inclinations.

Now tiredness
From lack of sleep
Wants to set in,
But I cannot relax,

Will not likely unwind
For some time to come,
Unless the disruption returns,
In which case, who knows
When the next calming interlude will arise.