Thursday, February 20, 2020

Wise Woman

I finally saw Her!  Felt Her wisdom like warmth from the sun soaking into my skin.  She is sitting calm and resilient, like flowing water that cuts through rock and etches  canyons with long, liquidy fingers.  Her hair falls straight, dark with gray streaks that pick up the highlights of her serene face.

Rest, my daughter.  I've got this!  You're going to have to start trusting me.

The miracle is that I do.  I feel my body soften, malleable like clay in Her hands.

My child, who told you to carry this load?  
Why do you think you have to have all the answers?  
Just do your work, the result is none of your business.

My work, yes.  Breathe.  Check myself.  Clear the debris.  The more I do this, the easier it becomes to recognize those thought barnacles that cling to me but are not mine.  It's simple really.  Constantly questioning each moment, each experience, each person standing before me to see if they are part of my journey or just a distraction from my path.  Continual course corrections.  Sometimes just a minute shift can alter everything.  The trick is that it is not always the easiest or even the most pleasant.  But I don't want to shy away from the yummy stuff either.  No more martyr shit, ok?

Whatever I do, let it be deep and may I be willing to dive wherever it leads.  I can't carry rocks in my bag anymore.  No time for that.  That was when I was young and feisty.  Shooting off like fireworks in the sky.  Now I need to be agile and use my light efficiently to travel farther.  If I find I've tucked away a stone in a secret pocket, I kiss it and gently let it go.  Not out of anger, but from love.  Love for the purpose it served in my life but also love for the woman I am becoming.  No more contorting my soul to fit into someone else's drama.  They are but twists and bumps to check my balance, carve lean muscles and strengthen my endurance, my resolve.  It's all about coming back to my story, again and again and again.

As I do, I feel myself taking up space, letting others adjust to my mass.  Woman spreading.  I plant my feet and expand.  Push against the envelope like the suffocating walls they have become.  I need room to breathe!  Remind myself that I have a right to clean air.  Allow my lungs to fill...

Then I return to a relaxed fight stance, ready to spar again.  I am finally enjoying the training.  Find the world a worthy obstacle, and me a confidant warrior.  At last I am moving from my core, defining myself, looking out from my own eyeballs.  No one can make me feel inferior if I don't let them!  It has to start with me.


Feel like I am on a train,
my body hurling through time and space
even when I am sitting still.
Been having dizzy spells.
But instead of frightening me,
I enjoy the shift in equilibrium.
Relish each tiny muscle
twitching into action
to reclaim and rename, balance.
Like trees that bend in the wind
so they won't break,
a new kind of trust is forming,
burrowing deeper in my flesh
every time I find myself still standing
after a storm.

I am so utterly intoxicated by each moment,
that the past and future have become fuzzy things.
They dissolve quickly to the touch,
like flaky pastry.
My whole life,
a moving incantation.
Steps rise unbidden to meet my feet.
Sounds pour from my mouth,
and I watch them dance unhinged in the air before me,
swirling into new thoughts and ideas
like incense.
I listen, enchanted,
as if to the advice from an old friend
curious what she will say next.

I have long since lost interest
in the stagnation of keeping up appearances.
Time and energy
too precious, too costly.
I feel the mask slowly slipping,
like wet paint dripping from a wall.
All that is left is my bare face
transparent and visceral,
sinews exposed.
A slow sigh escapes as luxurious space unfurls inside me
and there is no facade left to maintain.