The only thing that I know how to do is go inside, and perhaps I’m not even doing that correctly. The only thing that I know how to do is hide, and it’s what has kept me safe for all these years and years. I don’t know how to speak. I don’t know how to write. I don’t know what I want but I should. I guess from all the years of hiding and watching, and hurting, I know what I don’t want, so that’s a start isn’t it? But of course, we mustn’t focus on what we don’t want. For where the focus goes the energy flows, or something like that. What do I know?
I know that I don’t like eating meat. Where did that come from? It’s a start isn’t it? I know that life will continue with or without me. My children would miss me, but they’d go on. I know that at times I touch the core of what I think is truly blissful, and then I come back. For what do I know?
I know that life is a game and a gift, and that it feels as though we are controlled by forces that are not supposed to be controlling us. I know that people can be cruel, but that they can be patient, and kind, and beautiful too. I know that life hurts and that I chose a road less travelled. Stupid book, look where that got me. I know that sitting in my pain and allowing it to have its moment with me, should be part of its healing and that I can go on from here, better and more whole than before… but wasn’t I whole to begin with?
See, what do I know? I told you already. Nothing.
I didn’t get a degree but I got a Ph fucking D in life. Dr of what not to do, of how to be calm and present in the most ridiculous situations. I’m an idiot, get me out here. The gameshow that went on too damn long.
But what does this do? This knowing nothing kind of ode to whatever.
I know that I’m a procrastinator, hiding behind my fear, fear of being seen, fear of being hurt, fear of being me. Laugh out loud, as if I’ve not done all those things already. Can one show oneself any more than being naked on a West End stage? No? How about living in poverty in Africa?
A venerable tail. Oh no, make that a vulnerable one.
Because here she stood, or there she searched, looking for what exactly? Kindness perhaps? She found it in him, until she didn’t. And for a while they seemed better off apart. Until they didn’t, and missing him was just another nail in her coffin. For aren’t we dead already? Wouldn’t that make things alright?
Once upon a time, there was a girl, and she liked to write. And then her stepdad found her secret diaries, and read them out loud at the family dinner, so she didn’t any more. Until she did.
Once upon a time, there was a girl who seemed to be a chameleon, changing her colors to match whichever environment she found herself in.
But was that the problem? Found herself in, rather than created. Oh, you know that do you? No. I told you already, I don’t know anything.
So, the threads roll on by, and she has nothing to say. Once in a while she does, but someone always seems to get there first, and say it in a different way, and then she doesn’t want to argue or have a finger war. Stay quiet, says the voice in her head. It’s more peaceful here. Is that a good thing? Its not me that knows.
I know that music calms me, that breathwork reunites me, and that my meditation practice is the thing that has kept me alive. I realize that I fell in love with the practice and then I had to let that go too. And I know that I touched the center of something that there is no going back from, that I may need to be entirely transparent to how utterly insignificant I am, and somehow, I know that life gets better from there.
I know that I love candles, and baths, and incense, and oils, I love yoga and rituals and prayers. I love my children, my darlings with all my heart, and then my heart expands again into something more than I knew belonged to me. For that’s Love isn’t it? Ever expansive, infinite? I think I know that.
I know that this month, I’m reluctantly addicted to my phone. Isn’t that on trend in 2020? I guess it is.
I know that I don’t believe the narrative but that I don’t know what to believe either. I know that there’s too much information out there for anyone to decipher what really is and that at some point soon we wake up and realize that none of the answers are out there.
I know that we are supposed to believe the powers that be have it all under control, but I sadly believe that the only thing they want to control is us. I believe that there is an Absolute power that dissolves any powers that think they be, and it is this power that I choose to sit in, for it is here that I find my serenity.
I know that to many, I’m fully unimportant, and that’s okay even though it wasn’t for a while – well only for those that I felt I should’ve been important to. But who am I anyway? Like I said, nothing and nobody, and I’m okay with that.
I know that in the grand scheme of things, in fact, even on the infinitesimally small scheme of things, I know nothing. I know that forgiveness and gratitude are the two most important keys to the gates of peace and understanding. I know that holding someone in contempt is like holding a sword over your own head. I know that Life and Love are intrinsically entwined and that our senses are probably the biggest deceivers of what this journey really is.
I know that time is not what they tell us it is, and that control is the biggest illusion we have. I know that there is a presence, something bigger, greater, more important than any of this, and that this lifetime is a tour to remembering that. Or at least, I think I do.
I know that when I finally went to the physiotherapist a few weeks back because I could no longer lift my left arm, she looked at me across the room and said “oh, your poor shoulders”. I know that from that day to now I have made a conscious effort to lower my shoulders to the height that they were designed to be, no longer swallowing my neck, and under my ears. I know that in these shoulders I have held all of the struggling and surviving of fifty years, and I know that it’s time to let go now.
I know that this isn’t about me, that it’s about you and when I change that perspective everything gets better. Not because I’m looking down on you, comparing your problems to mine but because I’m holding you in the Highest Light of that which you were meant to be.
I know that this is the answer, that my prayers for you release me. I know that I’m not being grandiose when I say that, because I get more from giving to you than I ever did trying to get for me. I know that I love this life, this day, and that even when the noise is louder than we all can bear, the silence inside is there. Holding me, keeping me, entertaining me, Loving me. Willing me to be still. Whispering to me I am Here. I am There. I am.