Michael Brown writes about joy; “In ‘time’ we confuse joy with the outer changing experience of happiness, and we confuse creativity with the outer busy-ness of making or accumulating ‘stuff’. Yet joy is not about feeling good; it’s about feeling everything. Creativity is not about rearranging the content of the physical world to make life easier or more convenient for us; it is about embracing it all as the raw materials intended to assist us to realize our highest potential.”
As I sit at the end of this day, on the eve of my 51st Birthday, I am feeling the sharp edge, the brutally clear view of never.
My family will never be the family I strived to have, my love for them changes nothing, nor does taking it away.
It seems love should have some power, some magic to transform ugliness to pretty images.
The marbles in my hand turn to stone.
Like backwards magic changing my inner desires into shattered dreams.
In my throat I feel the thirst to save, turn to tears of knowing, it is not up to me.
I guess I had grand pictures of us all being transformed into beautiful innocent children dancing in the field of pure potential, greater and more courageous for having walked through the ring of fire, tempered into courageous works of Art.
A family of misfits who had the courage to embrace and own their darkness until they shown with enlightened awareness, bright.
No part of my body will hold on to hope, there is not a place to hold it.
I feel the ending in every part of my being, my stomach feels relief and opens softly in a sigh, and rest is at hand, finally.
The clench of responsibility seems to be dissolving and the restlessness of doing ‘something’ quiets.
Even my arms are quiet, still and without tension.
My mind and head feel less hard and intense no more searching for the right words to say, my head can be my own.
It is like a huge parasite has left me alone, or the strings of the puppet fell free.
One part of me feels the hollow container where a family should reside and the other side feels the breeze of freedom.
My weary body is in repose, at last.
My heart beats in sorrow and in relief, letting go and reaching to life being free.
The separation feels complete….
I feel like someone I have never met.
My insides are new to me.
How synchronistic that tomorrow is my birthday.
Happy Birthday To Me!
