I don't like to admit it. But I will tonight. For the sake of my growth and balance of my dark side. I will shine the light on myself.
I am often like the Queen of Hearts. I am extremely stubborn and often ruled by ungovernable passion.
This cancer thing, it is redefining me. No, it's not. It's refining me, helping me to see myself as I really am. You can't look at yourself bald as a cue ball and not see things differently. I am taking a hard look at me. I'm not so good as you think I am. and way more stubborn.
I was thinking about who I'd like to be when I grow up. A responsible adult who is a peacemaker, a creative spirit who relishes the quiet and lays low when drama is on the path. Who sees feelings as mercurial weather in a soul, but not truth. Truth is found in the quiet open spaces where no thought or ego preside. I have endured many deaths already in this life. I did not learn from all of them and so had to repeat them. Let me birth and embrace my adult self and let me guide my children to these peaceful places.
I admit, I am quite taken by oysters. Especially of the people kind. The ones that are closed and hard of shell and briny. I admit I have been arrogant enough to believe that they needed to be pried open and I could actually make them enjoy it.
I take my little pearl handled knife and make you deal with the conflict you have been avoiding, the one between open and shut.
I'm sorry little oyster. I'm sorry for all the prying and smashing and leverage used against you to get inside you, to your soft sweet briny spot of tender succulent vulnerability. Your fear, your raw nakedness that I intended to serve with a mignonette sauce. I am sorry for all the ways I tried to shuck you so I could drink you down and have you.
I will stop now. No longer a cute little otter floating and bobbing on my back through the kelp, a rock on my belly, bang bang banging you to get you to open.
I release you now. I watch you float away from me, down down down to the depths where I first found you. I release you.
It's ok. The bristly layered shell you have built is still intact. Nothing penetrates it. It's ok.
Down down down to the depths you go, while I remain up here, in the sunshine, wrapped and spinning in kelp, still aching for the sweet taste of you.
I have this capacity to love and give that is pure and child like and will not take no for an answer, but it is not medicine or food, and should not be force fed or roared.
Let the passion I feel be a gentle respectful presence. Tender and harmless.
Every single person is on their own path. Let me respect that.
and respect myself. I am lovable, fun and kind. I pay attention to the details, I notice the nuances, the smallest smallest things. This is good about me, how I pay attention, being present, seeing the best in others, seeing the woundedness in others and wanting to comfort them.
I'm not afraid to say the things people often hold back, things like
I see you.
You touch me.
You matter to me.
Come closer. Come closer.
Let me find a balance between the soft side of myself and the Red Queen.
Let me rule this way from tonight. Let me roll this way.
Help me Lord find my calling. Help me Lord step into my shoes as I have stepped out of my hair. Help me Lord get quiet so I can hear you. Help me see this season of fallow as preparation for what you will plant in me.
Hear my prayer.