The Struggle

“The sea has lived on in this shell, because that’s its Personal Legend. And it will never cease doing so until the desert is once again covered with water.”
-The Alchemist

For a month, I have been dry and barren. The only moisture I could squeeze from this shriveled heart was a few tears shed in quiet desperation. I wanted to scream, “Why am I different?”, but by throat was parched, and my voice was hoarse from yelling out all the cactus needles of anger that had grown inside as a result of self-denial.

They prefer noise; I prefer silence. They enjoy the surface; I enjoy depth. They accept fate; I want to challenge it. At times, we met in communication, and tried on the others’ garments. Neither side was completely absolute.

This desert of mine lacks the abundance of water, of purification, of answers for one reason alone. Fear of abandonment, fear of being alone. I would punish him (and them) with silence, hoping they would slowly die of dehydration the way I chose to die. But I couldn’t do it. I wanted to live with a zeal for the Water of Life like never before. Instead of quenching their thirst with my honesty, my Personal Legend, I let them drink the salt of my frustrations.

Now I let the ocean pour out of my heart in pursuit of my Personal Legend. I will not apologize for my needs. I will not punish those who disagree. At times I will whisper my desires through seashells, or send tidal waves of despair to those who threaten my journey.

My right hip and back have been hurting lately. Only now am I beginning to understand the imbalance of the right with the left. It is referred pain from the mid-lower back, the home of the third chakra, the house of self-esteem. There has been a constant power struggle between them and me, where I have been pulling with all the force I could muster from my right side. I now smile, because as I begin to let go, I realize the only one pulling back, was the other part of me too scared to express my true nature.

I know a balance exists between whispering seashells and roaring tidal waves.

*****

I went to go look up the meaning of the third chakra in a book, and I found a bookmark that has been missing for two years. It’s a painting by Howard Pyle, The Mermaid.


 

Mermaid, I will try to honor your wishes in the future. I will not abandon you. No one else loves you like I do.

I am well, because I am supported by you, by me.

The Calling

I look down at myself in the soft glow of light. My belly holds a new hope, like a new therapy for an incurable disease. My small and supple breasts are engorged with the milk of motherhood. There is no mirror inside the room, but my eyes see everything that needs to be known. After weeks of restlessness, a stillness fills the air with the scent of silence. A stillness without ripples, a lake that mirrors any object as is without distortion.

A new version of me is born, and I love her.


you search for
a sliver
of dreams
buried
surfacing
in ripples
of restlessness


I am a lake
a mirror of what I see
a remedy for your condition
disclosing the depths of me

Martin, you asked for it...

Talking in Tears

“You give me miles and miles of mountains
And I'll ask for the sea”
-Volcano, Damien Rice


the air is thick with dew
the droplets of words
unspoken
on her petals and thorns
the pleasure and pain
released as rain
her pigments bleed
her story
in saturated silence

*****

I used to think I was a woman who freed other women from their chains. Today, I realized I am also one of them, and that I will spend the rest of my life fighting to break free.

As I crossed the bridge, I looked up and saw her light shrouded by clouds. I imagined my hands rose from the steering wheel to part the curtains of cotton. Before I was off the bridge, her brilliance was unveiled. Coincidence? I’d like to think I had something to do with it…

Kaleidoscope

Witness
Sarah Mclachlan

Make me a witness
take me out
out of darkness
out of doubt

I won't weigh you down
with good intention
won't make fire out of clay
or other inventions

will we burn in heaven
like we do down here
will the change come
while we're waiting

everyone is waiting

and when we're done
soul searching
as we carried the weight
and died for the cause
is misery
made beautiful
right before our eyes
will mercy be revealed
or blind us where we stand

will we burn in heaven
like we do down here
will the change come while we're waiting
everyone is waiting

*****
I just love synchronicity. I’m driving to work, feeling the weight of my surroundings confine me in a cage of self-pity and self-suffocation, and these words pull the heaviness away. I watch the feathers of worry float away from within, as they twirl and dance and hover above me, far enough to remind me they are leaving, but close enough to remind me they can return with the slightest turn of my kaleidoscope thoughts.

These bits of colored glass thoughts shift and turn into new patterns every minute. Turn with the family staying with us, turn with the 2 calls I have this month, turn with the upcoming family wedding, turn with the thoughts of things I’d like to accomplish before the baby comes, turn with work obligations.

bits of colored glass
changing patterns
turning thoughts
the mind decides
the design


 

My mind is a fiend and a friend. I teach others to use it as a friend. It’s time for me to make peace with my patterns. Each of us is given kaleidoscope patterns with which to make our lives. The difference between content and discontent is the interpretation of the pattern.