On: Vacation, from myself

If home is where the heart is, then mine is anywhere but here.
Homecoming, come to me —
A homing beacon beckons for a listening ear
But all that I can hear is a negative murmur
The nervous beating of my heartbeat
A resistant, necessary break-down of old patterns
The structure crumbles one brick at a time
          And the truth is revealed

Inside is not always the safest place
Closed doors and drawn curtains are barricades between my lungs and fresh air
Yet as I lay in bed until noon, I curse the sun for shining through my window
For reminding me that outside, there are possibilities for change
Today, this terrifies me
So I stay.

New perspectives have an unsettling effect
My body resists as sharp shovels uproot my rotting foundation
But I am helpless against the necessary collapse
Horizontal, defeated, forced to rest —
            I am left without reprieve.

The morning walk has lost its novelty
The bird calls are second to my howling thoughts
The morning fruit dull, tasteless, dead
Sweetness cannot compete with the endless chatter in my head
“You are not enough”
“Your life is unfulfilling”
“You only care about yourself”
The loops play on repeat, so my senses go numb
But I can only run from Crazy for so long
            until she catches up (again).

Growing pains used to be so acute —
A grueling ache in my young legs, preparing me for change
Now that process seems to have spread beyond the physical
            into my mental, emotional, spiritual plane
Energetic, subtle
The subconscious carries my overflowing burdens
And each night they return to me, without filter, flattening repression to its pixelated bits
A show so cryptic its meaning cannot be missed
I watch, interact, yet rarely intervene with the script
Letting the story take control; I am controlled by it
Only to “wake” into the daily dream
For which I am developing resentment
Because I have no choice but to get involved, to shift the plot, to change the dialogue, the costumes, the scenery, the music, the characters…
Overwhelmed and empty
Daunting tasks paralyze even the most courageous
(and especially the least)

Where does power hide?
Certainly not in isolation;
            Locked inside a glorified box
                 the sun does not touch my skin
                      people do not see my face, hear my words nor songs —
                            and my Soul withers

One in All —
I remove myself
And society moves on without me.

All in One —
I remove my Self
And society moves on without Me.

The difference is paramount.
So I choose the difficult path
The one that involves getting out of bed
Sitting on my meditation cushion
Smudging my medicine stones
Greeting the sun with gratitude and reverence
Putting my bare feet on the soil
Perhaps even leaving my house, supporting a cause, extending a hand (or two) with no expectations for reimbursement
Stepping, with or without resistance, outside of my comfort zone
Being kind, gentle, patient
Becoming a human being worthy of holding leadership roles
Becoming a partner worthy of loving
Becoming a spirit worthy of Oneness
Facing my shadows, with or without fear
So that I may teach others to do the same.

Though the path may be difficult, the choice is easy
Because living in suffering gets old pretty fast
Because life is short, and I would rather wake up smiling than worrying
Because life is short, and I would rather die knowing than believing
Because none of this is about me, or you, or anything that can be named
Because there is absolutely nothing to live for,
          and absolutely everything.
So let the paradox lead me down the mysterious road of healing, change, transformation
Where my skin will shed, with or without pain
            No matter.
Temporary and fleeting, insignificant in meaning, peculiar, abstract, an enigma:
            Human existence.
Like it or not, here we are.
Or are we, really?
These are the fun questions we have been blessed to ask
So let us ask them, scream in anguish, indulge in worldly pleasures, love beyond our measures
As long as the heart stays open, the mind stays free —
Then at our death, each of us will be worthy
of a soulful "Welcome Home"