"You have to die to live," says Rumi and Shams, says Osho and the many mystics and great philosophers who have come before.
HAVE YOU DIED YET?
Meaning, have you released and let go of your sense of self, of who your little mind thinks you are?
Shaving my head, stripping my feminine body of this glorious mane of dark, thick curls, was certainly a death that I relived, many times over. Immediately, the ramifications of my actions were clear for the world simply no longer responded to me as it once did. From an object to bee desired to a freak, others no longer knew how to react. And, me? How did I engage? How does my lens of life shift when I surrender to the knowing that I am not this body, I am not this mind? TRY IT ~ you will bee delighted with the results.
Last night, you arrive as the evening we had planned crumbles into the ether. The discomfort I have been sitting in engulfs me. My resistance rises, I want to flee, to deny you and pout alone like a little child, isolating herself in her bedroom. Today, however, I am a wise woman and this adult knows the taste of regret only all too well. These days, she chooses to move through all of it while leaning in.
Still, my belly churns as the butterfly swarms. My appetite gone, my voice silent. You allow me my space - you press not for more or try to change anything. Eventually, I come around, showing my discomfort by hiding in your bed, sharing what words I can that try to compassionately communicate where I am. There is no projection or blame from me and from you I only see, feel, sense and experience a deep compassion and unconditional LOVE. It is this reflection that melts me, again and again. Your sweet vulnerability balanced with a rooted masculinity based in fatherhood always gets the best of me.
I whine that I don't know where my story is or where it is going now. Your eyes sparkle as you hold my gaze. This is all a comical, Cosmic dance as you allow me to twirl and spin in my foolishness. "Bring your Kali," you challenge. "I want your anger and your violence," your masculine essence begs. "I don't want that," I cry. Eventually, my stupor begins to clear and I come to understand that there is this deep well of grief located within me. I've spent my entire adult life running from it, smoking it away into only the illusion of lightness. It's simply felt too great a chasm for my courage to cross. Only, this time, you won't let me back down. There is no other way - but across.
You keep your agreement to our boundaries as I relax into my knowing - THIS IS IT! The TRUE LOVE story I've spent a lifetime dreaming of.
