Last night was my first night ALONE since moving to Dar. The Little One accompanied my mother on a trip out of town; I had to stay behind for rehearsals for the play. I thought I would be anxious about it, but for the first time in forever, I feel safe....safe, for the first time in too long. It's sad though, in her absence, my heart can only now feel the full expression of my love for my daughter.
They say time flies when you're having fun, I would argue the opposite and say time slips through your fingers when your struggling to hold on to your sanity. When everything's falling apart, the clock seems to tick faster and faster, like sand through an hourglass. Joy actually freezes time, in my experience. When I am so content with the moment that nothing else matters, no future, no past, no wants, no unfulfilled needs, in those moments time does not exist.
March came and went like a roller coaster ride through anxiety and tension, with brief moments of holding it together. There was too little joy in March, and the struggle to figure out what the fuck was going wrong sucked all the grains of time down until, suddenly, the month was over. It is now April, my birthday month.
I find myself here, now, as if finally coming out of a really bad hangover. I am still amazed at the loss of time, still confused by how it happened, but feeling, at least, like I can breath. The air is different, infused with a cleansing agent; the light is clearer, showing me things I did not see before. Is that the planets talking, then? Can this be explained with by a shift in the Cosmos, a change in the weather? Or is it just my Faith in these things that somehow survived the pressure of melancholy and the onslaught of worry so that with the shift in time and a new rising sun, like magic, the curse seems lifted? Is it so simple, then? Planets move and shift, time slips by, and suddenly even my trivial mortal circumstances have shed the weight of futility and regained the lightness of hope.
My breath is slow and steady. And the small achievements that did occur now rise up into my consciousnesses having previously been suppressed and drowned in such heavy, damning, despair. I have my health back, a good 20 lbs heavier unfortunately, but strong and vital and myself again.
My blood work confirmed no more anemia and all other organs are functioning (at least organically speaking) with full vitality. While doing my check up, I managed to finally find a proficient dentist and go through the first of several stages of treatment to my damaged mouth. Having done it and survived, having found a doctor who actually understood how terrifying these procedures have become for me, and having had my mother go full on warrior by my side through the whole affair-all of this is still hard to believe, to internalize. It has been this running commentary between my mother and I, "what are we going to do about your teeth??"; the frequent days of pulsing pain and the inability to chew properly have just become a part of my life. Now, just like that, it is all gone; I am healed.
A small, physical example symbolizing a much, much larger affair: The Stumble Out of the Path of Light and Peace. It always begins with a simple slip and fall, a wrong turn, a misplaced move; then the initial denial of trauma or danger, the attempt to ignore and the hope if you just keep moving all will be well; finally the awareness that you are in fact wounded, you are limping and scared that you have forever lost your way. And then one day, you are safe; you are healed; the process is over; those scary moments are gone. You will only ever understand only parts and pieces of how you were healed. Some things you remember, others you will never know. Like did the planets quietly shift in your favor? Did the moon tilt to help you see a way you hadn't seen before?
I shouldn't regret the loss of time, when so much of it was filled with hurt and worry; I am glad for the speed with which it seeped through me, though there are still residual aches. I am not even looking forward yet. I am here, now, on this day, and it feels safe. Let the planets move me at their will, let the moments settle down and take on new shapes. I think I see my Path up ahead; it is there still, waiting for me.
My breath is slow and steady.
