Again I am moved to tears by you - a much needed release. I am having a strange day - trying to get things done - avoiding the turmoil inside of me. I know everything has changed and will never be the same a gain. I know when I go to Arizona the transformation will be overwhelming and irreversible - in truth I am frightened of who I am becoming. I tried to contact Laurie this morning but when I found her she walked away from me saying she could not talk. I followed her as she walked towards the oceans, others came as well - many children - and we all joined hands and stood at the waters edge as the waves rose higher and slowly higher. A voice told me that I was impatient and undisciplined and that I had to learn to wait and take the water in slowly. But in a fit of rebellion I dove in and was transported back to my body. I just don’t know if I am ready for all this and then again I’m not sure I really have a choice. Sue is gone today so I have been drinking non-decaf coffee, smoking cigarettes and listening to loud music - somehow it makes me feel better.
We are being broken down, torn apart, diminished to minimum capacity, reduced to poetry; there is a beauty in this terrible breaking. Chunks of protective flesh seem to be just peeling off and falling away, leaving vital organs and untendered flesh exposed and hurting. We are being prepared for something, something I can not say, I dare not even venture, something I can not fathom here and now. We have agreed to this, our paths strangely wrapping around one another for this brief time, we agreed to this in another time and place we signed our names in light and said we will walk through this fire to learn the gift of burning. Our strengths were assessed and we were given what we could handle. Our burdens are great for our wills are strong. You will break, you will fall to pieces and you will look through the tears at what you have discarded and make a beautiful mosaic of your past. And when you are done you will place your handiwork in a scrapbook and close the cover as you walk into the sun soaked world with new skin and stronger bones and a fully restored heart. For now paint you walls with joy and sorrow, finish the trim with blood. Find the colors for heartbreak and remembering and use them as accents. Tear down all inside walls, expose the pain and sunlight where ever possible, white wash the shadows and add earth tones to the ceilings and sky blues to the floors. Rebuild joists as a connecting between heaven and earth, restore the aging as a sign of rebirth, stain the new as a sign of things to come. Never cry it all out but save your tears to sanctify the space when you are complete. Stretch your flesh across canvas and paint yourself beautiful. Then sacrifice yourself to saltwater. You will no longer be held by weather or time or temperature. What you pour into the four walls around you will free you from gravity and the other small things that keep us unwittingly here. Listen to old music and makeup new harmonies. Sing and scream and cry and laugh out loud. Your vibration will shatter old glass and rearrange stones and crumble unneeded mortar. Find the warrior, wage war against the past, against the sweet, soft girl who knew too much, felt too much, saw too much, wanted too much. You were told lies; there is no such thing as “too much”. Know, feel, see, and want all that you are capable of and build a dwelling befitting for the royalty you are. There is so much love and light that awaits you but your time for gentle acceptance is over. Rage even as you work. Rage as you paint. Rage as you pound. Rage as you rip away. Rage as you lie down. Rage as you wash. Rage as you walk. Rage as you run. Rage as you sit quietly. Rage as you dance violently. Such pain does not take leave gently. Rage! The world is bigger than you think and it creatures more resilient then you know. We will take all that you have to give. Give! All we be transformed as agreed.
I may need to see you soon – perhaps in Arizona – when it is right we will know