Sometimes it feels like my heart is too deep and sensitive for this ever-in-flux, (heedless, brash, remorseless?) world. If I give up control and allow you to hold my heart in your hands, I ask that you please be careful with it and show up with consistency and integrity and humility. With the regular examination and awareness and ownership and sharing of the state of your own heart and evolution of self. Well, now I know to ask, with curious, boundaried-love and respect for the both of us.
Life has cracked me open and I am working to heal and fill the cracks with liquid gold.
I have cried out for the ones I loved to have faith in me and see the gifts of my deep feeling. I have been rejected and left and invalidated and ignored and forgotten and told by my ex lover to leave me alone. My body cried to travel down to the pain of my childhood wounds and neglect, the betrayals and violations and let downs. I went and felt and I survived. I have expanded the space to hold hard things and beautiful things at the same time. And now that I have already been denied, I am free to be more of me. Larger and louder and full of myself because I have nothing to lose. The only one left standing to love me is me. The only one to give myself reconciliation is me. If you are not willing, I must be willing in entirety.
What once felt shaky and full of doubt inside is settling. I am no longer a confused little girl packing my Winnie-the-Pooh trunk to run away from home. I am no longer anticipating rejection, my hands tied, body waiting for the punch. My body led me to face deep, ancient truths and I am starting to trust what I know to be true today - My love was always beautiful, calm, ethereal, wholehearted, and steady. It remains this way when you leave.
Medicine reveals that hurts were real and worthy of acknowledgement, patience, and compassion. My pain deserved a conscientious apology and response. But your choice to hang it up and failure to hold space is not a reflection on me or what I shared. I am expanding, learning to hold space for myself, for what makes us squirm or deny. And I do not belong in the story you tell. I am left with no choice but to create my own world and affirm my own worthiness.
In my medicine dream, I was pulled in by lovely persuasions. Come over here. I tried and I tried to listen to the faint seed inside me. I was confused if frightened rabbits were always frightened without cause. Men looked at me strange, like fear was stupid. So I held them and shushed them and told them to trust the magician with jazzy hands and beautiful kaleidoscope-coloured wonders that turned into snakes, that I could not look at directly, like the burning sun.
Suddenly, he backed away and I was left in confusion. The dream was real but the magic was illusive and elusive. I thought we agreed to create together, but I’m left alone wondering if I was the magician all along?
Floating in black orbit with nothing but the tiniest of flowers.
And then I awoke to a new dream and it goes like this:
When the ones I wish to share love with
approach my love with a gentle, steady presence
when they have retired flash-in-the-pan magic and are willing to give an honest account of what lies inside, check engine lights and squeaky breaks and all.
when they have taken the time and pain alone to know what I have gotten to know, dirty shiny gut flora and all
when they demonstrate that their eyes are wide open to see and value the art of my love with sustained attention,
that they want to let me set the pace and walk slowly beside me, hand-in-hand
crouching down to see the most precious and quiet and tiniest of flowers
as the waterfalls and wind rage thunderously around us
I believe I will be able to hear the brave, calm seed within
I believe I will be able to stare in wonder at its soft, radiant light
I believe I will be able to create its colourful patterns to reflect my essence and shine
The dream is real and I’m already sitting with the tiniest of flowers
“Spiritual awakening is the difficult process whereby the increasing realisation that everything is as wrong as it can be flips suddenly into the realisation that everything is as right is it can be. Or better, everything is as It as it can be.”
