Heres a long self reflection I wrote today, no need to read but for those who are interested in what my recent experiences are bringing to me, here is a glimpse, its always evolving, layer upon layer, heres one layer: The bruises will heal. The scars will fade. Over time, slowly but surely they will fade until they disappear. There will be a day when they dont even cross my mind because the last time I saw them was over a month ago. Standing in the shower, looking down at my arms and reliving the moment, when the nurse brought in a needle and told me it was heprin. I politely refuse. She insists, its to prevent blood clots. To prevent my 24 year old body, that eats well, is active, regenerative, and capable of cleansing its own blood, from blood clots. I politely refuse again and she insists further, jabbing the needle into my flesh. Theres another bruise from the IV that put me under, kept me unconscious through another surgery. I gently wash my tender, aching body as I see beyond the bruises that are demanding attention on my arms, although not before contemplating what others who dont know me may think when they see the large dark marks on my inner elbows, arms and hands. Silly to worry over others judgements, but sometimes I do. My fingers are light to touch the sensitive skin I am living in. Everything hurts, the water, my breath, the swelling of my skin and bloating of my insides. Pressure. Pressure to exist in this weakened state. I noticed my newly stitched flesh isnt looking as healthy as Id like, its greying around the incisions and decaying away rather than fusing together in bright reds and pinks. I shutter to my bones as Im overcome with a feeling of frailness, shrinking inside myself a little more, wanting to escape the thoughts and sensations consuming my body. I inhale deeply and straighten my spine, expanding my chest and standing strong in the stream of the flowing water, banishing thoughts of inadequacy and disability from my space entirely. I am healing, this is just progress in the process, unfolding. I exclaim to myself boldly, I am healing: but then tears begin to fall. Is it because I dont believe this or because I know it to be true, and despite the healing that happens through the passage of time,I wish I could fast forward into the future where I am not weak. But Im free, not stuck in a lifeless sterile building hooked up to monitors and medications and being fed dead nutrients. Im amongst the energy of the plants and the earth and the people. Im alive, Im rebuilding myself. Alive after another rendezvous with the devil, dancing in the shadows of hell. Im in Eden and Im awakening to a new spring, slowly coming back to life and feeling all of the blessings from the earth, moon and the stars. I feel like a leaf being blown in the breezes of shifting energy, from below, above, rolling in and out with the tides, following the moon. Trying not to resist, only to understand and just sway in the breezes as they come. In this very second I am tender, I am frail and breakable. My body is but a glimpse of my inner workings. I feel that if my bruises, scars and stitches would accurately represent how fragile my interior was, my whole body would be a walking display of destruction. But just like you, if I dont look down at that bruise, or that flesh, I may have a chance to forget about the trauma Im experiencing now. Forget about the process of regeneration, restoration on many levels, because such transformation doesnt come easily. I lay on my back, close my eyes, taking slow deep breathes, in the silence of my aloneness I can escape. I can relax and feel at ease. I sit with my thoughts and memories, and I let them go. I am present to my aches, pains and stiffness, but I also let that go. I fantasize about the day, hopefully soon, when Ill be running and jumping and bending in every way imaginable without so much as a hint of discomfort. Then I let that go. I just exist, in the nothingness. No pain, no emotion, no thought, no feeling, just being. For now I am meant to sit with all of these stirrings, crazy thoughts and emotions and pains. Harsh reminders of my undeniable humanity, because often I like to contemplate in realms beyond my biological disposition. I further acquaint myself with these energies. Only through knowing them will I be able to transcend them. So with devout patience i accept, I think, I feel. I sit with the insecurities. The ones about my body that I thought I had overcome. I sit with the uprising of negative emotions, fierce anger and irritability, sullen sadness with underlying depressiveness, or sometimes unswayable indifference. My logical mind debates if its from the chemical alterations of medications purging from the body or possibly the extreme detachment Ive adopted towards all things mutable; which is one of the only conclusions to draw from this reality Im experiencing, brought plainly to light by my own mortality. Its probably both. I get to hang out with the feeling of being inadequate, unable, limited, when I long to feel invincible. I get to contemplate if these feelings are just old programmed ways of knowing myself coming back to haunt me with the familiar pain, or if they are entirely new beasts finding refuge in my compromised body, mind and spirit. Either way, I sit with the confusion of not knowing who I am in moments of anger, fear, or pain. The way I behave and the way I feel in my heart dont match. The things I say in those moments cause me more pain in the moments after than I had felt before. I sit with the self sabotage. I sit with the unfulfilling feeling left after I realize no amount of self destruction can validate something that isnt true. It can make me believe for a moment that yes, its true, I am inadequate, see look its proof. But I know the truth deep down. I know that the way I am being is not who I truly am. I wallow in the self created misery because I excuse myself to do so, I permit myself to be an asshole, circumstantially of course. How would I know what I am and what I am not if not through experience and recognition of whats truth and whats illusion. Its all part of the process. The process of living. Life is beautiful, lovely, exciting, entrancing, romantic, and joyful. But life is also painful, disconnecting, lonely, mournful suffrage. Experiencing these times when the grass sure seems greener somewhere else, I am finding the gratitude and connection in fleeting moments of sanity, in the peace amongst the chaos. Life always seems unreal in the beauty, like we live in a fantasy or faraway land, finding ourselves often reveling, how can this be real life? And then it seems all too real in the moments of distain, drastic contrast to the moments spent floating on air. Its all life, all equal, all necessary. The craziness, insanity, self destruction and observation and reflection upon it. Its like moss on a rolling stone, slowing you down as you accumulate wisdom with experience, enriching your presence in this life. Take the good with the bad, love the bad with the good. Its all flowing, always changing, and I am grateful for that. This too shall pass. High or low, good or bad, love or hate, this too shall pass. As my dear friend says, Gratitude: detach. Thanks for reading ❤️🙏
Posted on: Thu, 14 Aug 2014 02:22:34 +0000
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