Yeats, names, conversations

To an Isle in the Water
by: William Butler Yeats

Shy one, shy one,
Shy one of my heart,
She moves in the firelight
Pensively apart.

She carries in the dishes,
And lays them in a row.
To an isle in the water
With her I would go.

She carries in the candles,
And lights the curtained room,
Shy in the doorway
And shy in the gloom;

And shy as a rabbit,
Helpful and shy.
To an isle in the water
With her I would fly.

I love this poem. 
My mind is always busy, always talking, always racing, always negotiating – it is tiresome! By the time I bring myself to have a conversation with my Husband, I’ve already had it 100 times in my head. It is a LONG process. In order to facilitate my communicating, He holds me, gives me time, coaxes it out of me, all the while saying “come on, shygirl, just talk”. I need that. But I don’t like needing anyone or asking for help. I do not want to be a burden. This is one of the biggest obstacles to overcome in my submission.  We all know I need Him and all that He gives me.

This blog is disjointed, I realize that. I have been journaling since I realized my nature, but it would feel weird to go back and start from there. So, I’m just going to take it from here and revisit as things come up. Welcome to the nuances of my brain.

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