Mar 2015
It is all of value.
The days when I am wrought through with tired fear, days like bogs,
Bed, a big dark hole I cannot lift my body from.
The days I forget myself, days I can't get comfortable inside my body So, restless, I shift and slump and hide it away,
Afraid that I am defined by it,
Defined by the way it is sometimes unbearable to be in it.
It's okay. Sometimes it's hard to be here.
Sometimes I get lost in helpless, exhausting anger at the way
I can still fall into the same old holes after everything,
Even after it all.
But it's okay.
It is all of value.
Maybe I didn't know what I was getting into when I chose this life,
Maybe I just knew that I needed to be here, this way, this place,
This time, in a place and time defined by place and time.
Where I was before was not like this, so of course it's been hard,
Hard like
Being something I didn't remember I was inside of something I didn't know how to be.
But it's also been a gift, being so new to all this
I don't have to pull the roots of time out of me,
Don't have to peel back the sticky dead spiderweb layers of history.
I can take what I need and give everything I can.
I can write my own path,
Walk through all the doors I allow myself to see.
I can do my work, work my love, sketch my heart across this life.
And really, the beauty of it all is breathtaking, blinding.
Beauty like sitting in the park, like the first rain of spring
A sweet fruit held loose in the sky, sun hanging halos through the clouds,
On a hill with sisters, sisters singing songs to the people passing by while two young boys play behind us,
Shy shadow dancing in the background
Without admitting they are dancing,
Disguising it in whoops and leaps and clumsy limb-ridden grace
Until they are accidentally in front of us,
Until we ask them to sing, until they sit and sing,
We are made of sound, together we are music.
Beauty like how every ordinary moment is filled with extraordinary perfection,
Just waiting to be seen, sang, heard, danced.
Beauty being the fiber of reality, waiting to be felt.
Beauty like that.
The days when I am wrought through with tired fear, days like bogs,
Bed, a big dark hole I cannot lift my body from.
The days I forget myself, days I can't get comfortable inside my body So, restless, I shift and slump and hide it away,
Afraid that I am defined by it,
Defined by the way it is sometimes unbearable to be in it.
It's okay. Sometimes it's hard to be here.
Sometimes I get lost in helpless, exhausting anger at the way
I can still fall into the same old holes after everything,
Even after it all.
But it's okay.
It is all of value.
Maybe I didn't know what I was getting into when I chose this life,
Maybe I just knew that I needed to be here, this way, this place,
This time, in a place and time defined by place and time.
Where I was before was not like this, so of course it's been hard,
Hard like
Being something I didn't remember I was inside of something I didn't know how to be.
But it's also been a gift, being so new to all this
I don't have to pull the roots of time out of me,
Don't have to peel back the sticky dead spiderweb layers of history.
I can take what I need and give everything I can.
I can write my own path,
Walk through all the doors I allow myself to see.
I can do my work, work my love, sketch my heart across this life.
And really, the beauty of it all is breathtaking, blinding.
Beauty like sitting in the park, like the first rain of spring
A sweet fruit held loose in the sky, sun hanging halos through the clouds,
On a hill with sisters, sisters singing songs to the people passing by while two young boys play behind us,
Shy shadow dancing in the background
Without admitting they are dancing,
Disguising it in whoops and leaps and clumsy limb-ridden grace
Until they are accidentally in front of us,
Until we ask them to sing, until they sit and sing,
We are made of sound, together we are music.
Beauty like how every ordinary moment is filled with extraordinary perfection,
Just waiting to be seen, sang, heard, danced.
Beauty being the fiber of reality, waiting to be felt.
Beauty like that.
