When you come to your senses, put down your defenses, habits, cover: I-won’t-show-you-mine-if-you-won’t-show-me-yours, ‘Everything is F.I.N.E.,’ (fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional), like traveling in a car, stopping at the drive-through, throwing leftovers in the back, you keep moving, trash piling up, rotting, just over your shoulder. And forgetting it’s there, get used to the smell, the festering of mind, farting from the back seat, but the moment you slow down, put on the brakes, everything comes flying forward, French fries, fish sticks, uneaten hamburger and half-downed cokes, McCrap on the dash board, in the windshield, wreckage of your past, so thick you’re blind. Kharma, like mud, obscuring your view. You have to clean up, if you’re going to proceed, get your life, have your day in the freaking sun. You’ve got to unload, get a grip, a view of the road, without all this drama, garbage, making the way unclear, it’s clearly in the way. And because it’s in the way, it is the way. The giving up, the surrender to, the letting in letting go, releasing, a panorama where there were once blinders, hell, no view at all. Pick it up, every smelly bit, examine it and highlight for deletion. An Everything-Must-Go-Sale at the Dumpster. When the view is wider, the screen clear of mind, wipers keeping it open, each stroke of the blade, becoming, ‘Name something you like, Thank you more please, Name something you like, Thank you more please, Name something you like, Thank you more please, Name Something … you like … more please … you like … more please … you like … more please … you like … more please … you like … more please … you like.’
Standing on solid ground, the known, so-called reality, before you the abyss. Hesitating, unsure. F.E.A.R., (Fuck Everything And Run), behind you, in front of you the unseen, unknown, yet to be spoken. This leap, madness or genius, the extension of nowhere, your legs, arcing through space and time, coming from somewhere, spanning through nowhere, you are now here. Right now. Here. In the leap, the faith, you become tangible. Real. Realized. Free falling in the gap, the span of nothing, the leap; causation. Free. Our lives, history, his/her story, our ordered chaos, death. But in the nothing, no thing, the gap, the leap. In that space, between here and now, the space of no thing and all thing existing, in that placement, or lack of placement, is possibility. You have to leave the earth, (the small strip of land allotted to you at birth that you must till, until you die), you have to achieve lift off, become air born, jump, into what is not known, to know something new. In that moment, in the not knowing, the trusting, that becomes opportunity. Take the leap. Fucking jump.
Storytelling/Meaning Making: Taking the elements of life’s story, the plot pieces and making meaning from them that grows you, takes you from victim of circumstance to empowered storyteller, able to expand and see yourself involved in events for the purpose of growing you. There is a warning that you don’t ask to grow patience for fear that you be delivered lots of frustrating circumstance. But if you see the frustrating circumstance as that which enables you to grow the muscular structure to have a better life due to your amazing patience, be a stronger person, or just plain enjoy yourself more, why not change the meaning so you are satisfied, happy, content, expanding, surfing the waves that life delivers knowing that its all done for you, not to you?
If you have some outcome, end goal in mind, you may be missing the journey. Now is all we have. And in that present awareness, awareness of the present, what will you do, for yourself, for other? How will you serve the vastness of the realm that is you, your loved ones? Will you hold space, despite outcome, bad behavior, will you love yourself no matter what? Will you smile, laugh, cry, go beyond your most maximum, with an open heart, a strong spine and love, truly love, the pain, heartache, refusal, disavowal and the mirror? Look, deeply inside. See that which is you, your essence. You are home, not the place, but the being. You are love.
You say to yourself, ‘I’ll be good, done, successful, perfect, calm, excited, able to relax, on to the next, happy, when I get that job, girlfriend, promotion, new bike, car, friend, award, relationship, acknowledgement, my first million …’ And it doesn’t satisfy. Because the destination is only pointing to the journey, the process, the growth possible, not expected outcome, but unexpected expansion of self. You are the end goal, your willingness to reach, struggle, resist, scream, complain and yet, persevere. You are the result. You are the glorious never-ending love of adventure, possibility, transcendence, transmutation, evolution and light. YOU.
‘I was dating again. It had been six years since the divorce. But at 46, looking for a relationship worth having and trying to attract ‘the one,’ my antennae was picking up nothing but static. Desperate for romance, certain I was unlovable and ten years sober, the bars were out. But not the rooms of AA. The night we met, I’d worn kitten heels, capris that showed off my figure, (but not too much), painted my toenails and gone to his favorite mixed meeting. Phillip was a gorgeous Italian and everyone said he was a total catch. Short. Muscular. Worked a really good program, took meetings to skid row once a month and despite white hair, reeked of possibility. In the short time we’d dated, he’d cooked me dinner, called me daily and mooned over me.’ ~Excerpt from The More Love Club by Adrienne Alexander
You feel it rush in like wind, rain, a loud clap of thunder and it’s real. Mind, speaking as if it knows, tells, shouts, warns and the fear mounts, a tempest, swirling. Nothing’s happened. The planet, the energy of your thoughts creating the perfect storm, rising in pitch, crashing against the shore of your desire (de-sire, to sire, give birth to), new life. Quiet. Stillness. Reprieve. Asylum. Bathe in it. Your heart. Sweet winter shower washing you clean. Such power, purity. Like lightening (light-en-ing, releasing darkness), incandescent love.
photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/haniamir/2343848730/”>Hani Amir</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/”>cc</a>