My daily meditation for finding peace and light, even through darker days of physical and emotional pain.
Traversing my inner space wearing the lens of metastatic disease, my inner eye wanders into dark places at times. The glasses have me reading invisibilities into ideas that have no real importance. Ideas such as what my life’s purpose what could I possibly serve the world when at the moment I was diagnosed with #metastatic breast cancer three years ago, my needs far outweigh my ability to give. Many days my questions return only an inner sigh of response. My contributions and defining myself and my roles becomes so foggy, so unclear to me.
How does one learn to reason with depression? I’d like to share with you a story about a confused partner who after the passing of her arbitrary three-year deadline falls into s state of incredible aftermath. She unreasonably and unfortunately becomes inconsolable with wave after wave of ugly accusations hurled from across a house she lives in with this depressed man who she no longer knows, or even knows what she feels for him anymore.
We all fall down. The ground grows smaller, As I pass the Earth, Becoming her daughter. Funny to stand today, Eclipsing the sun. My books marked still, On page one.
There is no greater sorrow than to recall the misery in time we were happy – Dante A belligerent handshake, a reluctantly shared cab. “You know where to let me out?” Your smile, a dagger, Mouth unwrapping secrets, your sleeves full of cards. My stomach twists into a gilded fist, so hard, Throwing a kiss,
Lampfish unevolved, light the crevice, (otherworldly!) Blindly finding their ceviche (weirdly!) A dinner time resevation for one, Below the heaving inky pressures Seas lifting other treasures. Above on uboats rocking, spit roasted on a gun, On rising waves. Cresting, comes the new, Seemingly unborn facing headlong, due east. Darwinian measures for Blackbeards pleasures, Never found
A lifeless traveler fully awakened, The aircraft lands – you’re stirred and shaken. Roots hold on again, once more, Shackled to a cellar floor. They wrap around the casks and mour , Steady and fast to thick, oaken boards. They bow to greet the tastevin, the spoon, The vineyard grew too thin. Shared from a coast once
You can achieve the magic eye, Without much effort, pain, or practically With silvery shadow spread upwardly. Lids covered platinum, eyes for now, opposite. Brushed, stroked far beyond river banks, Gala and golden eyes for nighttime trades Made in sunshine, fans, and shade. Violets tip their hats towards the old mosque, Egyptian eyes line up
But as human beings we need others. He remarked, “I want you,” – that’s a perception of me as object. We want a car, we want a computer. We need other humans – and that is the definition of love to me. Giving of yourself of love – not only the romantic kind of love, but the love we give of ourselves even when things seem the darkest. I told him I need you – in response.
Every morning, in peace and with the new day upon me, I am thankful for receiving all the love in my life. For even the most radical scientists at the end of their physical lives among us, individually agreed that love makes us human and matters above all else. God, however you may define