26 May 2018: A Year In Review [the story of being, and becoming]
I started this year, with a promise to myself. That I would break the chains of toxicity, that I would release the burden of repetition. That all the things that weighed me down, I would let go of, and that I would move forward. That 2018 would be a year of “go, and…”. I started this year, with the promise of love, with hope, with hanging on, still, to things and people I knew I needed to let go of and release, but was afraid to, hesitant of—what if I let go, and I have nothing left to hang onto? I was still fighting off fear. I still am. But one thing I have learned, that I am continuing to learn and re-learn every day, is how to let that fear come and go, like a wave. I am learning to let everything, come to me like a wave. Let it come—but don’t forget, to let it go. I’ve spent so much of my life, suffering, I have spent so much of my life, afraid. Hanging onto some far-off fantasy that I had no idea of how I might actually get there. I have lost my faith, and then I abandoned it, and now I am learning how to create my own meaning, my own religion and rituals—or not. I owe a lot of that to Logan. I can say that without inviting bitterness, although I still feel tinges of pain and sadness. He awakened what was dead in my life. Revived what I had killed off, buried. He created a spark, and I have been aflame ever since.
But I made him out to be a god, when I should have been worshiping the holiness of my own Self.
I have experienced so much loss this year. Unexpected. Loss I have been stubborn against, that I have continued to grieve and want to call back to me. And somehow, unexpectedly, I opened myself up to understanding loss, and how to cope with it. I would have never imagined that being a hospice volunteer, would lead to me learning how to say goodbye. A lesson that was right in front of me, that I was blind to until I needed to truly see it. This is how you let go, this is how you grieve.
My healing, my growth. They have both been messy, uneven things. They have weighed heavy on my chest, like a suffocating burden. I am learning how to not try and bear the weight, but to let it wash over me, to listen to it. And then let it go. Let it go—let it go. Has that really been the lesson? Let it go, and…learn how to move on, move past, move through. Let it go, and…learn how to not look back. Let it go and, be not afraid of it.
I have spent a lifetime, trying to be stronger than the world around me, and I have collapsed beneath its burdensome weight. An impossible task of being that was merely existence. Last year I worked through my anger, this year, my fear, and I have found them to be rooted in the same spot. In the centre of me, lies me, and there I have found everything I once buried and thought lost. Thank you, Logan, for reminding me of myself. For re-conjuring in me, my love of mystery, and mythology. Thank you for being a Loki-figure, an Alobar, a Pan. Thank you for reviving in me a thirst, a hunger, a need, to explore and know and seek out. For reconnecting with my own mysticism. My own divinity.
Where do I go from here?
Because I find that I still want to nurse my wounds of loss (goodbye my almost-lover). But I know that fear has held me back long enough. It’s time for the “and” part of my journey. Go and…become everything you have cried out to be. This is the journey of Being, and Becoming. This is the story of Fear, and breathing through the tight, raw spaces it exposes. This is the story of Re-Birth. This is the story of the Journey Back Home. Can you see it? Just past the horizon? Those are all my dreams, and hopes, and visions of a Future, running fast, to greet me. Welcome home, Prodigal Child, welcome hOMe.