This life this life this life...



 “A loving heart can handle the world.”
Khalil Gibran



The end of Pisces season had me treading water in all of my past regrets. Every hedonistic tendency wanted to be expressed and every rumination had me frozen with shame and sorrow. My life has been so blessed and I have also insisted on stumbling through it my own way, shunning ALL advice from my elders and peers. I am a 3/5 profile in Human Design and this means I am destined to run off the cliff to see what it feels like and learn through direct experience. Today that feels brutal. I am masterfully adept at manipulation and control. It is staggering really what I am capable of and to unravel those tendencies into a softer, more raw version of myself feels so terrifying that I don't quite know where to begin. There is a very quiet voice who whispers that I don't have to do it alone. That healing is not done in a vacuum and that I get to ask for help. That's something I am not practiced in, and my ego tells that side of myself to fuck off. But what else is there to do, when I am up against the wall of my own bullshit? What else is there to do but surrender?
On the way to work I found a car settled into the drainage pit of a sidewalk. Tagged with graffiti with a homeless man sifting through it, it shined in the morning sun and small flowers sprouted up around it. The flowers are sprouting and the birds are observing the chaos of this human life from above. The juxtaposition of shadow and light right now is fucking potent. One has only to go to work in Portland's central east side to see it. The smell of fresh baked bread wafts from Franz bakery while the broken woman waiting for her methadone, pulls down her pants and shits on the sidewalk. A baby laughs and security guard at the methadone clinic lights a cigarette and smiles at its sweet face in the stroller. I pack bags of fresh linens in my new car to clean a five bedroom house newly vacated. The women's shelter next door blasts music and the morning sun makes shattered glass on the sidewalk glitter like diamonds, and it stops my in my tracks with its beauty. It's the remnants of a burglary and the evidence looks like art from a certain angle. 
Beauty and pain, joy and terror, gratitude and grief. Life on Earth is not for the faint of heart. 


Comments

  1. Wow, a powerful piece. You express yourself so graphically and lyrically that I see through you eyes when reading your words.

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