Everything is a gift. Some of the statements I repeat to myself are affirmations I wish I believed, statements I wish were true, statements I think I ought to believe. But, I actually believe that everything is a gift. Yes, including the heart-splitting, life-threatening, grief-incurring, makes me want to die and sometimes other people commit suicide because of it stuff. Nothing annihilating or ruinous has happened to me. At least not recently. At least not in a way that I can explain and you could believe. I broke my own heart. Again. I lost what I don’t have but want, the thing I want so badly that I don’t dare admit that I want it. I lost what I didn’t have yet. Again. I had the dream. I believed the dream. I awoke from the dream with less than I had before I dreamt. The gift is that I’m awake. Now I’m awake. Almost.
If I were completely awake, enlightened, fully realized, then I wouldn’t feel this pain. Which means I’m not yet awake. I’m in-between dreaming and seeing. I’m in-between resisting and surrendering. I’m in-between grasping for what I want and accepting what is. I’m in-between grieving a loss and receiving the gift. I’m in-between who I’ve been and who I intend to be. I’m in-between a life that externally seems plenty good enough and the life I soulfully desire. I’m in-between my ego best and my angel best.
I miss who I’ve never been. I miss what I’ve never had. I miss how I imagine my life could be and could have been. I miss where and when I misplaced what I believed was possible.
This week’s aches hurt neither more or less than last week’s. This week’s pain hurts differently. Everything changes. I learned from last week’s pain. I learned that I’m stronger than I thought. I learned that I can survive my most assiduous self-abuse. I learned that I’m weaker in my resolve to take care of myself than I need to be. I’m remembering how my heart heals this week. I light white sage and send my prayers in dancing smoke circles. I direct my prayers to whomever is listening. I prostrate and supplicate and wail. I’ve no more pride. Humility creates space for me to breathe. I’m breathing. Everything is a gift.