There is a dark and wise, beautiful not-beauty that must overtake our sensibilities at some point in order for truly new life to take hold in us. The rooting of that seed is fighting to survive in me. My brain and body feel the pull of Her Life/Death/Life nature coming to me, waiting quietly for me to look long and hard into her blackness. She will not yell for me to pay attention. She will simply follow me everywhere until I do. Life must. It is a primal truth that I cannot ignore or wish away, even when my logical self, my fear of change, my disdain for the unknown surfaces in me. So, I lay in the bath tub, crying and knowing that Skeleton Woman has found me still and unmoving at last, and I gather the courage necessary to look up into her not-beautiful face. There are no guarantees that what comes next will be lovely to behold, or easy, or always fun. There is no simple comfort that this new chapter will be painless and wildly successful (as I have historically defined success, that is). She does not nod at me in acquiescence to my desires and longings. She just gazes back into me, seeing... everything. I shift uncomfortably. My soul is reaching out, knowing this is where life and growth and awakening happens. My ego is recoiling. We both decide to stay in this moment. - Sarah La Rosa,
Posted on: Tue, 29 Jul 2014 19:01:31 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015