This is the time when I need paper. There’s something sensual in the way the pen glides across page. It’s something I’ve never been able to explain. Maybe there’s no need. Superfluous. …I remember once hearing that word applied to me. It stung until I realized she didn’t understand the meaning. Excess, unnecessary, too much.
And while lives revolve on this planet without one ever meeting another, there is nothing inherently excessive about any of us. But this is a known known.
I think that sometimes we all have to take a step back and really look at things. Really weigh the odds, the pros, the cons. There’s no need for me to hold on to anything that my heart wishes to let go. And, yeah, there are times when my mind clings to memories made of sand and pebbles, but isn’t that more just a rope, somewhat more akin to a noose than something that will rescue?
My freshman year science teacher used to give us life lessons when he deviated from his lesson plans. He said, “Anyone who says that they don’t care cares very much.” I can see his point, but I’ve said I don’t care. And in context, I don’t. I don’t care how things are perceived. That is superfluous. That doesn’t matter to me. It’s what I know, what I deem to be my truths, opposing, conflicting, or otherwise. I just spent too much time trying to read the signs and ignoring what was right in front of me, the reality, not how it was perceived.
My heart feels free. I don’t ache in my sleep. The dreams have faded, and I’ve recognized other things. And this isn’t to say that I don’t waffle, because I do. But how much of that is clinging to the familiar and being afraid to walk into the future? The fear doesn’t matter to me so much anymore.
I’m not afraid of sleeping alone, living alone, being alone. There’s so much of me to get to know. And here’s what I discovered: had I put the time into getting to know myself that I put into getting to know others, my life would look very different now. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret a single move. Not in the least. How can there be regret if life reared up to show me myself? No, I wouldn’t change a single, solitary thing. To do so, is to change it all and quite frankly, I’m happy where I’m at.
Company is nice on most any journey, but completely unnecessary. Not superfluous, just…easy come, easy go. That I can live with. And that gives me the freedom to move with ease.
I have loved immensely. I thought I had lost immensely, too. But is there really loss if there is gain? My soul doesn’t feel burdened. There’s no grief, other than the natural grieving. Sure, the ego smarts a bit, but ego is not the soul. And my soul says that I’ve done what I needed to do. The outcome is what it is and there’s no need to do it again. This is how cycles are broken.
My favorite wise man said to me a few months ago, “For us, breaking the cycle means finding happiness. Look around us. Is anyone really happy? No, they’re all miserable, busy doing what they’re ’supposed’ to do, but they’re not happy. For us, we have to find happiness in order to break the cycle.” I love My Singular Magi and take comfort in his words. I am breaking the cycle…the cycle of family, of life, of intertwined souls. This portion is finished. My soul can tend to other matters now. Because as Ani said, “…like my name missaid or misspoken, cycle broken.” I get that. I misunderstood my own name, and I allowed it to be misunderstood and misspoken. Though sacred only to me, my name…nor yours…should be taken in vain. That is a disservice.
There were times when I didn’t know what to do, when I didn’t know how much more I could take. My Singular Magi said, “When you say ‘I don’t know how much more I can take,’ you can take more. Think about it. You’re actually saying you can take more.” And I can. Yes, I hit rock bottom…for me. But my rock bottom looks different than yours. I still had a roof over my head, food to eat, a warm place to sleep, a car to drive, people who love me, family who supports me, friends who were absolutely right there… I mean, that doesn’t sound like rock bottom at all. But there is such a thing as “worst pain.” My worst pain is equal to your worst pain, even if the experiences are drastically different. Pain is pain is pain is pain. But this is not where I meant to go.
I love deeply. I don’t understand love that goes away, but I understand love that evolves as I evolve.
I used to say we need a fucking evolution, not a revolution. Revolution in that context, how I meant it, means to revolt, not revolve. But so often, the revolt is ongoing and never-ending. It, in fact, revolves. But to evolve, that’s something quite different. That is to change, to grow, to become something new…even if in reference to the soul it means to become exactly what it has always been: pure.
I struggle sometimes. I do. I struggle with acceptance and anger, with staying centered. I am still upon my wobbly axis, but I don’t fear my own (r)evolution. I don’t think I ever have.
I really don’t expect anyone to actually read this far. I’m just rambling. But sometimes one simply has to take the blessings as they come and trust that there will be more. I am back to knowing things. I am back to knowing that this heart of mine will one day find its mate, but now is not the time. There is work to be done, still. And I wrote the Opera (Opus and Opus II) a while back. I know the soul, but I cannot see her. I don’t know who she is…and I’m not waiting for her, just as she is not waiting for me. I’ve learned that I wait for noone. That pleases me. When I’m ready, I’ll be able to see the face that belongs to such Divine light. And she is magnificently bright–not blinding–but blanketing out the rest of the world with the light she is. I don’t know…it’s not something I can explain. It’s something I feel.
I’m prepared for the long haul. I’m ready for this journey of solitude that could last years. For I offer noone a broken heart. But it doesn’t feel broken. It doesn’t feel bruised…it just feels consumed with getting to know me. Silly, I know. But if you really stop to think about the giddiness of meeting someone new, the time you invest in another person, the sheer joy of learning her peculiarities, the degrees to which we go to get to know someone else… Well, I figure if I apply that to myself…
That’s not to say that there aren’t some wonderfully great aspects of the single life. There are, definitely! But I’m not looking for anything…and even if I were to find it, I think I’d turn her away. There’s nothing I can offer anyone right now, because I’m busy with the business of offering myself to me.
(March 11, 2008)
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