Are you spoiling yourself, or are you being fair? Listen to the vibration.
“Insisting on aloneness and terrified of being alone.” ~Nina Riggs, The Bright Hour
I still have a hematoma on my outer left thigh from my bicycle accident in Central Park almost a year ago. The bone is so deeply bruised, it only takes laying on my side to really feel it. No amount of pressure feels normal for me yet.
Reminders of how serious that accident actually was and how lucky I am to be alive. Just when you think you won’t remember your whole heart ever again, it starts appearing piece by piece as a bigger, warmer and more open thing.
Forget who you imagined yourself to be. Somewhere behind the lens of who we want to be and what we are right now.
Everything is okay. You will fall. You will break your fingers trying to do unnecessary hand balances in some yoga studio in Winnipeg. It will feel unfair, but you don’t disappear anymore. That’s the best part.
(In Transcend Coffee Shoppe)
The ways are endless.
My seat in this coffee shop looks out onto a marquee reading “Garneau”. This floods me with warm memories of perfectly placed bandanas alone in the studio spotlight back in 2009.
If each moment strings together with all the ones before it, they all really do count.
Michael and I fell asleep watching blue planet on National Geographic the other night.
We learned about plankton, and how fossilized plankton comes together at certain parts of the ocean to form these mounded islands. Plankton is just one element of the ocean that makes it so much more than water.
The ocean is the earth’s blue lung.
I fell asleep with this ringing through me like Picasso’s blue period, blue lung, the blues. Jazz mmm, delicious. I wash my hands in the restroom and begin this direct inner dialogue with my reflection. Relax your brow. Ignore this need for botox because you don’t want to start thinking you’re someone else when you look in the mirror. Enjoy staring at the whole of you, fine lines and all. Be all that you are because it is wonderful.
European Spa, Edmonton
Somewhere in between dreaming and waking up completely I say to myself “Be brave today“.
Michael busts through the front door with all the best sounds and smells of morning: coffee and today, spinach feta wrap. Sitting up, I slide my eye pillow to my forehead and accept my presents one in each hand. He plops a brochure on my lap and says “do you want to go to the spa today?”, like that is a real question to ask someone, or like I am someone who just goes to the spa nonchalantly.
Unsure of how to respond or if he’s being serious or not I say, “Good morning! I love you. What is happening?”. He tells me that this spa is Edmonton’s “best kept secret”. “Okay, then”, I say knowing it’s enough to convince us both I guess. I feel weak today for some reason.
How did he know I needed this? How does someone even go to the spa? I think to myself, watching him like he knows something that I don’t about the world. Michael drops me off with these ladies at the spa.
I exchange my shoes for sandals and a robe. They leave me in a private waiting area where I take a selfie of my pre-Japan spa gown, in the floor length mirror, and return to my seat.
I see an ad for botox that says, “Does she or doesn’t she?”, I let it hit me with out twisting my arm at all. It doesn’t really matter, I think to myself without much further convincing before I am guided to the next place.
I follow them without further conflict about the botox. Please take care of me today, is the vibe I’m giving off, and I understand, is the vibe they are giving back. It’s odd to think of a massage as humble, but lying on this bed and letting go of my delusional anything, I allow this kindness to happen. I too am someone who can be taken care of. This is surrender.
In the moment. In the Dust.
Be careful of philosophy classes in college.
I signed up for every available philosophy course I could find despite them having no requirement for my major because I found out something about philosophy classes : you sit around with a bunch of other people who love sitting around for hours talking about how much they love talking about thinking.
We made a lot of sense: if nothing else, we found lots of tools to use, or avoid in life.
Some of us just walked away even more confused about themselves and the world than when they got there.
All of that talking about thinking keeps you from actually being able to DO anything. That is one way to stay on the sidelines of life. We know this.
If isolation is your goal, you will find it faster than you ever thought possible. No one will ask you to pick up their kids from school or trust you to take them home from work because you become “other”: it’s not so bad being “other”, if responsibility is what you’re trying to avoid.
Be careful about getting all that you want. It is so much easier than you think.
Try to take it in sections as you go.
The moment is only meant to carry you along into the string of ones to follow. Instead of trying to capture that one singular time where you see yourself and the world as one, envision life as a more fluid place. Something about moments falling from us and being recognized like dust.
If you take a large area rug out on the front porch to beat it clean, watch for that one moment where the dust hangs. In between where it was and where it’s going. Somebody once told me that this hanging moment is truth.
This is what a single moment looks like. Trying to capture it completely will rob us of all truth eventually. It’s the collection of moments that truly count. It’s the blue lung breathing life from a deep life source. It’s all the things.
If we sit too long imagining how we’re ruining it all, or needing to prove how we’re not, it will disappear. A Course in Miracles says that if we start to objectify the external things that are meant to purify our hearts, we will lose the connection with them completely. We must be all the things at all different times.
We will be healed and knowing wearing those lovely orange gowns at some point, but not while we walk this place (THANK YOU, Nina Riggs orange). Once you get that I think you’ll get everything.
We can change. We do change. Our memories are breathing through us through the blue. The thing that keeps you from who you are is gone.
How long was it with you?
Some people will say decades. Others will say years, but we always go back into who we’ve been. We do.
Maybe you love butterflies and Rodin. Celebrate that. Don’t let someone tell you that you’re not allowed to enjoy all that you are. Unconditional love.
This is how we heal ourselves. Love YOURSELF like that. Let that love in. Let the “loves you no matter what” love happen to you through all of it—through the tantrums and the messy parts. The that was a close one, love. ❤