~ Written by Danielle N Bilski ~

Search light

I start walking fearlessly along a path and I am sure of the direction I am heading in. The sun is above me, warm and shining brightly in a clear blue, cloudless sky. Vivid colours surround me; a sweet, floral aroma; pleasant sounds of nature buzz harmoniously. I feel calm and barely notice how many steps I have taken, taking my time and looking around with awe and mindfulness; peaceful and present.

Suddenly, the sunlight is dimmed by clouds and I feel a chill down my spine. A cool breeze flutters my hair, causing my skin to goosebump. I clench my jaw and hunch my shoulders forward, folding into my chest for warmth. All of the colours around me pale and fade into shadows. I hear my shoes drag across the ground. I become aware that I am squeezing my fists shut. I begin to question my navigation ability, feeling slightly disconcerted by the darkening horizon ahead and my isolation, a landscape vacant of familiar landmarks. I turn to glance over my shoulder and realise the place I came from has vanished and nothing distinguishes where I was from where I am heading. A lump in my throat; a sharp pain in my head; my cheeks flush and my ears ring with a high-pitched note.

The breeze has increased to a windy resistance stirring dust and debris into the air. A strong force of pressure presses into me, leaving me unbalanced and disorientated in a chaotic dance of inconsistent timing; rhythmless. I am no longer sure of anything and begin to panic. I reach for my phone in my pocket and realise I left it charging next to the kettle. I stop, put my hands on my hips and shake my head. I close my eyes, tilt my head towards the sky and feel raindrops upon my forehead, cheek, neck. I take a deep breath in, open my eyes to greyness and blink away rain as I wipe my hand across my face, smooth back my hair, pull my damp shirt away from my chest. The ground is spotted wet. Turning back is not an option, because I don’t know where I am. There is no shelter. Not another soul. I shiver from the cold, darkness ascends and I will soon be void of any source of light than the uncovered stars and a segment of moon once it rises. The night stretches like a blanket over everything before I have taken another step. I have the fleeting thought, ‘I wonder whether anyone else has noticed that I haven’t come home or shared that I have safely arrived anywhere else yet.’ I decide that noone is aware that I am nowhere. I realise I need to keep moving – in any direction – to reach an unknown place to rest until dawn. The longer it takes me , the more obstacles I am likely to encounter and potential threats to my physical safety, but there is nowhere to hide. As my sight becomes blackened in silhouettes, my mind begins to fight itself. My heartbeat thumps in my ears like bass through an amplifier; the impending fright suspended in a soundtrack of a horror film viewer’s memory. I wonder how…if I will survive.

By the light of dawn, scratches, bruises and soaked shoes stand on the welcome mat of a farmhouse as the rooster alarms the sleepers’ awakening. I am safe and they are kind. When I lose myself, I never know who I might eventually find. To me, one with this incomparably vivid mind: even the longest, coldest, darkest night, I can, and I pray that I will always survive. I have realised, I was born after all, with my own bright inner search light.

©2024 Danielle N Bilski

~ Written by Danielle N Bilski ~

Outgrowing

I realised today, I still wear the skinny black jeans I wore four years ago to a job where I was treated harshly by my supervisor (that I now understand was bullying and harassment, but I wasn’t able to describe it at the time with this clarity and informed perspective, even though I knew what damage the feelings were doing to my confidence and sense of self-worth.) I didn’t know the goodness and respect I deserved.

I haven’t thought of those jeans as something I have covered my skin with since those days. To anyone else, they are merely a functional item of clothing as they have been for me as well. Now, in a particularly vulnerable head space, after moving back to the city those experiences occurred in, they have triggered the memories and familiar feelings of discomfort, inadequacy, pressure, unrealistic expectations, and miscommunication.

Today, I purchased the first new pair of denim jeans I have bought in four years and tried them on in my childhood bedroom. I live there now, with my eight month old puppy, since my relationship ended.

I will throw away or donate those skinny black jeans that are now too big for me. I have outgrown many things recently. I am proud of that.

©2024 Danielle N Bilski

~ Written by Danielle N Bilski ~

Satellites and anchors

She can do whatever she wants, they say, but not this or that, and she should do the opposite option to her instincts. So, tell me how is she supposed to learn how to ever completely trust herself, if there are always unsolicited warnings and inherited fears from someone else being received in abundant flow?

Satellites need her as a consistent point to move around. Without her, they have not yet discovered their own inner guidance control centre. Meanwhile, anchors lock her into the sandbar of a harbor to protect her from the dangers of the wide ocean. Her true purpose of sailing freely and exploring her curiosity becomes limited to the small waves the anchor can predict easily.

She is the satellite’s guide, the anchor becomes her protector, but eventually she begins to feel heavier and heavier, with the pressure to lead the way without the freedom to demonstrate the wisdom she has already gained.

She is convinced she needs less and in consequence she sees less, with a shielded view by satellite’s close orbit, while anchor causes her to drown beneath the surface, reassuring it is in her best interest to stay hydrated.

. . . . in progress . . . .

©2024 Danielle N Bilski

~ Written by Danielle N Bilski ~

A retro stampede

Stand clear, please, of my retrospective stampede, at the speed these emotions are revisiting me, I cannot guarantee our safety, or accurately predict, the damage they will leave this time, it is so unpredictable, this healing mind of mine.

I have moved my entire life, three hundred and forty three kilometres – twice, seventeen years have stayed behind, but I am not the same, how could I be after each major change?

It is taking all this momentum, for me to stay one step ahead, I do not want to fall anymore, or always feel this socially awkward.

©2024 Danielle N Bilski

~ Written by Danielle N Bilski ~

Soul lights

Everything will be ok, because when we say ‘come what may’, we trust ourself, to find our own way.

I know, today is testing your soul, and you have been holding your breath, dodging another challenge you have been thrown.

It seems like time has slowed, and you will need a moment to rest, just believe peace is coming darling, I promise.

With faith held safe within our chest, our brave soul light prevails, chasing all fear, back into the darkness.

©2024 Danielle N Bilski

~ Written by Danielle N Bilski ~

Today there are 50 days until my website’s 15th birthday on 4th August this year. I will be writing a new piece every day between now and then to mark the significant milestone and capture this time in my life filled with a lot of major changes. This is what I came up with today.

Loose pages

Who wrote this lesson? Demanding every moment of my attention, left me questioning this method, and will I ever truly know myself again.

Honestly, I am hesitating to unfold the map of where I have been, as I can feel familiar shame, it is hovering and determined to sneak itself beneath my skin, when I am not looking.

Surely you see, it will not be filter-free, while protecting my self actualisation is first priority, some of these loose pages, I intend to let you read, eventually.

So, be gentle with me please, do not tear up my history, or force the words you think you need to hear, as I sit quietly listening to the rest of the world breathe.

©2024 Danielle N Bilski

~ Written by Danielle N Bilski ~

Flash fall

Falling in a flash,
grasping desperately,
despite blindness,
senses maximum overload.

Everything is blurred,
Where am I?
What happened?
I do not know.

Tell me,
is anyone else hurt?
Or spinning,
out of control?

Bracing for impact,
trapped,
in the centre,
of a severe shock zone.

Seeking answers,
prepared to begin repairs,
deafening squeals drown,
another problem I cannot resolve.

I am grief and stress,
a small part of an immense mess,
and now I do not recognise myself,
in my own home.

Disjoined images,
through a floating screen of debris,
trying to locate where anything,
I recognise has been thrown.

No matter what,
I am aware my heart centre,
remains where it belongs,
and this I always know.

©2024 Danielle N Bilski

~ Written by Danielle N. Bilski ~

Smudged

Sometimes three months of stress is relentless,
with a list of priorities all competing to be first I address.

I have cared for a teething now-eighteen week old puppy,
and resigned from a cafe job where I made mug after mug of great coffee.

Adjusting to five AM early rises and ‘good night’ at nine,
in a middle-of-summer heatwave keeping us all hiding inside.

This heart still leaking grief for a dog we recently lost,
in relationships strained by how much living now costs.

Distanced from friends to minimise sharing my damage,
monthly therapy for this messy mind I am struggling to manage.

Three birthdays, Christmas, New Year, and cousin’s birth missed with family in another state,
and I am not sure anymore how to connect with any parts of my life that remain.

I read and watch, clean, care and think, listen, feel and then sleep,
and not much energy has been free to enjoy my interests or capture these lessons creatively.

I have tried to look at my life from different angles in search of light and love,
and someday this phase will be more than an indecipherable existence of feeling irreversibly smudged.

©2024 Danielle N Bilski

~ Written by Danielle N Bilski ~

Grey ocean (Paper clocks)

How did I,
say goodbye and now,
continue this life,
when I held you,
in my arms for your final moment,
graced by calm?

I am in awe,
of a quiet fortitude as I try,
to survive losing you,
and these words,
an inadequate capture cannot piece together,
our symbiotic bond that has shattered.

I am wondering,
when words will,
matter again,
and colours,
can continue creating,
true impressions.

I am living,
mere moments masquerading meaning,
by relation,
and playing,
puzzling poetic profundity,
with alliteration.

My sight,
lost luminosity like links,
of chain,
since grief,
etiolated elocutions eventually emulating,
a grey ocean.

I am discovering,
soft strength stored safely,
within my remains,
and imagination,
transformed through time transcends,
a world forever changing.

©2023 Danielle N Bilski

~ Written by Danielle N Bilski ~

Seeds, sticks, sparks and carved hearts

Seeds can become poisonous weeds,
or bright fruitful blooms,
sticks can be broken in half,
or provide shelter and support the growth of many leaves.
Sparks can turn into consuming flames that burn to the ground in their wake,
or keep us warm and alight the path through a fog,
and we each carry our unique heart that may crack or shatter,
and it still sustains us, whether we are aware of its beat or not.

Whenever I write,
I am mindful,
to stay optimistic,
and now I will tell you why.
It does not mean that pain and I,
are not well acquainted,
or that I have not lived with it,
I just choose not to let it rule my daily life.

Oh, it is true, I was there and only nineteen the night,
that he found her on the floor,
and I am finding it hard to write more about that,
words fail me now or perhaps this failure is mine.
I mean, you get the picture, don’t you?
Although she tried, I am happy to say,
she is still here with us today,
and I have not seen her lately, she has a part of me.

So much has happened in my life since that moment,
and sometimes it feels overwhelming,
when I am holding a pen,
to face any of it over, over and over again.
It is no secret, we are only human,
and I think I want to go back a line to move the word only,
because not only have we survived,
I have discovered I am always mindful enough to find our guiding lights.

Seeds, sticks, sparks and even carved hearts,
do everything they can to thrive,
and the only way to make you notice them,
is to write with my focus on the miracle of every form of intelligent life.
We are one, from tiny flowers to tallest trees,
elemental fire ignites with the same air we all breathe,
and as some choose to feed the carvers attempting to destroy us,
I choose to grow gratitude for every hearts’ endless capacity to love and adapt, no matter what happens.

©2023 Danielle N Bilski