Every morning, my body is dismantled
Every morning, my body is dismantled
In this blog words Teacher and Mentor is referred to "Dada"
Dada is the one to have changed my perspective in all aspects of life
The world within me rages within caverns of unexplored crystals - where deep pockets of strength lay hidden beneath deceptively protective membranes of anger and fear. Every morning, when I awaken, I am struck by the innocence that lives within me - I am humbled by the miracle of having woken up for another morning.
There was a time where I dreaded the moment that my body would awaken, that my being would have to function in a world that I didn't understand. My footsteps tracked along city streets and hallways that were filled with people with voids as faces, my hands held pens that sputtered words I could never own as mine. I lived in a world of niceties, in a universe where I had no purpose other than the one written on the piece of paper at the end of my quest. I have no use for paper that I cannot write on.
There was a time where I trolled the aisles of medicine halls to find a substance that would allow me to close my eyes in peace. This was a time where I wavered between the fear of being awake and the fear of being asleep. Now, I am afraid when I awaken to find how much I've learned during my night away - during a trip I may have taken into another world, or deeper into my own.
When I wake up, I am open. I am open to gratefully accepting the start of a new day and the blessings it will bring - the road I will continue paving. I am open to accepting the nature of my strength, and harnessing the beautiful gifts that nature offers us each day - within ourselves, and from our planet. When I wake up, I know that I have awakened as a healthy, whole being - that each new day is another canvas on which I can evoke the landscape of my life, each day begins with a fresh palette.
When I wake up, I am afraid.
I am afraid for the sensitive nature of my being is once again subject to the judgement of my own inner voice. I am afraid, for the nurturing way in which I hold my loved ones is rarely open to myself. I am afraid, for I know that only I can access the strength within me to uphold my gentleness, my love, and my own care. In truth, I strive to live - to take each step on my journey with the careful harmony between life and death, between shadow and light, and between warmth and darkness.
In my path, I have struggled. In ways innumerable and yet minute. In ways quotidian and yet enormous. I have taken some of the steps in my path with shaky legs. My body has ached to depths deeper than the life force within my bones. I have upheld facades of strength when my body has been weak, and when my spirit has been broken. I have forced myself onto healing, I have convinced myself that by struggling, I would recover.
I never thought, perhaps, I could love myself.
That to love myself would mean holding my healing with a gentle hand. That I could still, see myself in strength even though I am afraid. I never thought, perhaps, that I could still admit that I don't have the answers to all of my questions, and that - well, that it's okay. I never thought that - perhaps, I would want to take care of myself when I am sick. That, perhaps, I don't need to force myself to go through a day with a throbbing headache. That, perhaps, It's okay for me to say ...no.
In truth, I am always learning.
The greatest admission of strength - the only admission of my own strength that I have allowed myself to hold recently has been that, actually, I don't know anything. Every morning, I am a neophyte. I open my heart to lessons that the world I work and live in has to teach me today. I readily drink in the teachings of those around me - of my teachers, of my students, of my peers, and of strangers around me. In every tear, in every smile that I encounter, I learn - and yearn to know more - about the nature of the beings we are, and how we are all connected.
Although I own my being as it is present in this plane, I am no less put together than any one of us ever is. I willfully admit that yes, I am still struggling - and that yes, my spirit craves to know that within my body it is safe. The only thing I am ever sure of is that I am actually sure of nothing at all - that I am learning every minute on how to accept and be in the next one. In healing communities there is a mantra that encourages members to live each day at a time - I only know how to live each moment. And some are very difficult. I only know my stillness when I have it, and I only know troubled waters when I am in them.
In truth, I cannot wear the masks of lives I have not lived.
When I go to wash my face each new morning, it is only mine that I can wash. Though I encounter hundreds, maybe thousands, upon my path each day, it is only my scars that I wear. I cannot own the wounds that I have not suffered, and I cannot wear the medals that I have not earned.
I can only accept, with great grace, the blessings of a life in which I am always learning. I can only teach the lessons that I, myself, have learned. I can only learn when I am open.
Gratefully, in my path I have been blessed.
I have been blessed to be given my life, when I acted in manners that suggested I no longer wanted it. I have been blessed with the words that pour as waterfalls from the upside down reaches of my consciousness to paint the world within me. I have been blessed with hands that hold my energy, that allow me to try and understand - to grow when I don't. I have been blessed with teachers - with immense wells of patience and nurturing, with depth and understanding beyond what I can even now understand. With the ability to see the strength within my weakness in ways that baffle me, and yet encourage me to strive and see the same. I have been blessed by those that have shown great care - for me - for a being so razed - that I never thought I could ever love.
And yet, in truth - I am most grateful for the pain that fuels my words, and the anguish that coaxes the flames within me.
I have been blessed
each morning, on which
I open my eyes,
and persist
- into the world -
arise.
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