In silence I sit and realize that half of my breath is absent.
The air enters my throat but doesn’t seem to completely fill my lungs as it once did. Something is missing.
As my thoughts attempt to follow the same path traveled for so many years the absence of full breath redirects their progress and brings them to the developing brick path that is being newly paved over a more solid foundation, I cannot go there anymore, all detours have been closed and the old path has worn away.
There’s a numbness to this pain. So many years, waste is a word that has begun to enter my mind as I look to where the new path might possibly lead and yet even that word is numb as it enters my thoughts.
It is real this time, it has a momentum that is pressing my sanity and my growth. And so I sit in the silence and know that this absence of breath is real, it is not numbing, it is empty and lonely and silent and curious all wrapped up together. It is real.
I woke this morning at 4 am and my mind went to the thought of what it would be like to discover that time of day, the beginning of a new day, lying next to someone I love…I had to stop typing and think for a minute…is it really that or is it simply waking next to someone and filling the human instinct that is human contact, after 5 years of waking alone…being who I am right now in this place…is that what it would equate to?
The solution to the equation that would fill the lonesomeness of no human touch. I imagine in my mind the gentleness of passion, it fills the cup of our natural being fully. The opposition of gentleness and passion in our minds we fight because of the ego and control; so often times not being truly present in the fulfillment of the three thing that are our true spirit…our minds, our bodies and our spirit.
Is it the joining the three what equates to Love?
Yes I think it is…the joining of the three equate to our love of our own being and if that can include another being and being our full selves with them can make that grow then I do believe it equals Love.
Today I woke up very melancholy. The day unfolded from there and I came upon a letter I wrote some where between 2013 and 2015.
This is the letter.
I have wanted for so long to see you love me,
to hear you love me,
to feel you love me.
My mind has so often tricked me into believing that someday, in some moment it would happen…the light would shine in your heart and through your eyes and the receptors would trigger in your mind and you would reach out for me and kiss me and hold me tight.
You would let me hold you and love you as I so desire to hold and love someone, for so very long now, you.
I can feel the beauty of your body and have waited for the moment when you could feel the beauty of mine.
This fantasy is at some of the deepest depths of my pain. I tried so hard. I wanted it so much and I worked at it with every ounce of energy and sanity I had.
I wonder if it will always live in me
and I wonder why it ever has.
We had a lot of life together, 20 years and it is now done.
It ends with such a huge hole of questioning… what it really was all about…
there really is nothing to show.
The way we lived…so apart… I was so lonely all of the time…never feeling good enough….honestly never being good enough.
The question is so loud in my mind.
Who am I?
The apparent answers don’t seem to fit, they all are attached to some one or something outside of myself.
Even recognizing the ultimate answer, the answer that has gotten me through is unspeakable in this moment.
I have no idea what the answer is to the question in the world of the reality we all live in.
I wait, I pray, but the core of me has no attachment in this world and so I have to recognize that I float through this world not really knowing.
Who do I want to be?
I want to be someone who is recognized.
I want to be the person everyone has always me told I am.
I want people in my life, I don’t want to be alone any longer.
I want to make a difference in my world.
I want to be open and free.
I want to feel love.
I want someone to want to know about me.
Who am I?
I am an entity floating through this life lost and unattached, imagining what it could possibly feel like to be something else.
Who do I want to be?
What does this look like in my life.
It is the theme of what my world has been. It is how I only know to live.
I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t.
Always suspecting if anyone is present enough to really care.
I see the world outside of me and I don’t really know if its real.
Being alone for a lifetime creates a world within itself, for as time eclipses the moment, and your alone in that moment, there is nothing outside of you…so there is no reality out there, no world according to the ego.
I’ve known this since I was very young. I can still feel it within my memories, how my soul began to prepare me as a child for this world within my mind, for that feeling of floating thru nothingness, no one attached to my being and as I’ve grown older I’ve had to find my sanity in not being attached to theirs. Alone.
The silence stirs the mind to fill the void of nothing that challenges the sense of sound.
I’ve grown so accustomed to it.
Hearing only the buzzing in my mind amidst the subtle hum of electricity running through the fan as the blades create a gentle whoosh through the stillness that embraces the silence. The occasional crash of ice falling from the machine in the freezer and every once in a while, the faint groan of a jet flying overhead leaving behind a curious stillness on its journey.
Not even the sound of traffic in the distance or a long-traveled train on occasion, nothing, nothing filling the void, nothing but the hum in my mind and the voices in my head conversing about my world and guiding it into questionable sanity, and the silence where it hides.
When I think outside the window into the darkness of the night the darkness space appears in my mind. A darkness of quantum proportions as if the silence begins to tumble out of control into the deepest holes in the stratosphere, ending nowhere. Carrying with it all the emptiness that exists in the moment that it surrounds.
The silence remains forever.
Yesterday my daughter read me a post that my eldest posted on Facebook in response to the Donald Trump fiasco that we are living through currently.
Today I got to read the post myself and I have to say that my emotions as a parent surfaced at a level I only ever have experienced when she actually went through her trial.
The conversation was this:
A little over a month ago I was assaulted. The man who did it was someone known to me that I had heard talking about women much the way Donald Trump did on that tape. At a certain point, the man who assaulted me believed that I was in a position where I could do nothing to change my situation. He believed that he had rights to my body even though I never gave those rights to him. While he was wrong, and I did alter those circumstances, the change the assault affected in me will probably never go away. There was a time where I might have accepted Donald Trumps statements as “locker room talk”, but I know now that the line between the man who “talks” and the man who takes action on those words is practically non-existent. Donald Trump’s candidacy has normalized sects of our culture that once were hidden. He’s given racists, misogynists, and any other number of actual deplorable a standard behind which to flock. We CANNOT allow him to do the same for the predators among us. I implore you all, don’t waste your vote. This election is not a joke. Please share this in the hopes that we might reach one Trump supporter that needs some clarity.
This was my daughters post
So I’ve been thinking about what to say about my daughters post since reading it myself this morning. First I want to say that the amazing strength and honesty of J, and of all my children, never ceases to amaze me. This itself is enough to support her but even more motivating for me is her eloquence in communicating such an ultra valid point in the craziness that has become the road to our next presidency.
Everything has a reason it is what it is. Because we are human it’s inevitable, we as imperfect beings create the world we live in and that is my point.As women we’ve had to conform to survive and we have. But at some point we have to be able to set boundaries and have them accepted…unconditionally..and from there more peace and respect will flow. Ask any female bartender what the reality of their world is.
Donald Trump didn’t even choose to say “grab her ass”. No instead he said “grab her pussy”. I challenge any man reading this to have someone say”ya man I want to grab her pussy” about your sister, mother, wife or friend and not get up and punch them in the face. Remember who he was referring to could be anyone of those.
My daughters post was to ask that people think about what it is that we are putting out there into the world. Not about who your voting for.
I love you. My b… � and you amaze me at every turn.
This was my response.
I Love you Boob.. So very much..