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.