This is a day I wish I could wax on about the joys of cinnamon toast and the recipe for margaritas I'm in love with and slurping down. This is a day I wish I could tell you I'm planning on belly dancing in my living room to some 99 cent ethnic record I bought at Thrifty's World of Music and Love. This is a day I will tell you none of those things. Because I was born under the sign of Scorpio in the tumultuous mid 1960's and I'm a deep thinking, soul searching, rather freakish sort of woman. Lightness of Being does not come easy to me. Especially on days when my heart feels heavy and the light coming through the paper bag over my head is dim. This is that day. It's the fault line, you see. The one I have been straddling for decades. My left foot on the Traditional Woman side, my right foot on the Super Woman side. That line, hacked into the ground by opposing familial and societal views of the unforgettable 1960's, is rumbling. Cracking. Splitting wide before my very eyes. The split is a void that allows none of my tactics. The ones where I am always in a hurry to move forward while clinging tenaciously to the voices of the past. My strength to straddle that line has almost run out. I feel myself falling forward, paper bag securely over my head. It's dark. I can't even yell for help. The void swallows all resistance. But true to form, I'm thinking, thinking, thinking as my feet lose their grip. How does? What if? Why can't? When will? Where the frig will I land? I'm tired. "Welcome to the void", I hear, "where confusion is cleansed and your own solid ground is discovered." Crying is allowed, accomplishments are not. The door to the past and the window to the future are closed. Suck it up and stay in the present. Begin to see clearly the only definitions of life that matter. Your own. The rules of tradition and society are hell. In the dark, find your own heaven, and when you're ready, let your new lightness of being lead you to solid ground. For now, the void. But there is a day coming where you will find me belly dancing while thinking deeply of my new definitions and the merits of cinnamon toast.
Sunday, June 07, 2009
The Fault Line
This is a day I wish I could wax on about the joys of cinnamon toast and the recipe for margaritas I'm in love with and slurping down. This is a day I wish I could tell you I'm planning on belly dancing in my living room to some 99 cent ethnic record I bought at Thrifty's World of Music and Love. This is a day I will tell you none of those things. Because I was born under the sign of Scorpio in the tumultuous mid 1960's and I'm a deep thinking, soul searching, rather freakish sort of woman. Lightness of Being does not come easy to me. Especially on days when my heart feels heavy and the light coming through the paper bag over my head is dim. This is that day. It's the fault line, you see. The one I have been straddling for decades. My left foot on the Traditional Woman side, my right foot on the Super Woman side. That line, hacked into the ground by opposing familial and societal views of the unforgettable 1960's, is rumbling. Cracking. Splitting wide before my very eyes. The split is a void that allows none of my tactics. The ones where I am always in a hurry to move forward while clinging tenaciously to the voices of the past. My strength to straddle that line has almost run out. I feel myself falling forward, paper bag securely over my head. It's dark. I can't even yell for help. The void swallows all resistance. But true to form, I'm thinking, thinking, thinking as my feet lose their grip. How does? What if? Why can't? When will? Where the frig will I land? I'm tired. "Welcome to the void", I hear, "where confusion is cleansed and your own solid ground is discovered." Crying is allowed, accomplishments are not. The door to the past and the window to the future are closed. Suck it up and stay in the present. Begin to see clearly the only definitions of life that matter. Your own. The rules of tradition and society are hell. In the dark, find your own heaven, and when you're ready, let your new lightness of being lead you to solid ground. For now, the void. But there is a day coming where you will find me belly dancing while thinking deeply of my new definitions and the merits of cinnamon toast.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Oh, my. This is an absolutely incredible, powerful post.
ReplyDeleteIf I understand correctly what you are so painfully and poignantly communicating ~ I can *so* relate to how you are feeling right now. I am totally in the void ~ peeking out of the bag over my head. Sometimes I rip it off in a brave, daring, dashing "hoorah for this wonderful life!" move. That doesn't seem to last long, though, and it's pulled sheepishly, angrily, confusingly, frustratingly back down over my face. Ugh.
At any rate, as you told me recently....I see you.
(P.S. The word verification for this comment is 'busnerog'. That sounds like a great, new expletive for our circumstances, doesn't it? Busnerog! :-D
Om shanti, my friend.
ReplyDeleteYou know, the void sucks, let's face it. Don't allow yourself to get sucked into it.
Carve yourself a new truth. Create your new self with every waking thought. Ego, screw off! Whatever it tells you, don't listen.
Shhhh! Graciel, you are a wonderful, open, divine soul who has taught many of us a lesson or two.
You really are something.
xoxo
You are who you are and you will be who you will be, and it will be good no matter what!! Pass the cinnamon toast please because that stuff is just too good not to share. :)
ReplyDeleteHope you are doing OK, Graciel. The void is good too, you emerge from the other side anew, and you'll find your way.