Tuesday, March 16, 2010

The Beast

She comes out of me, out of my head like the destructive forces of Kali, wearing human skulls on a belt around her waist, laying destruction on all sides, all I love is laid bare, all I cherish is licked by fire, charred, sometimes beyond recognition. I sit back and watch, powerless, I cry and beg the universe to take her away, to banish her. I pray for forgiveness. I crouch in the shower, crying, the tears mixing with the spray from the shower, broken, devastated at what I myself will do to protect what is not even in danger. I pray to the Great Mystery to please, please let my heart open to love and to open beyond the the insecurity, the doubt, the fear of loss. I want her gone. But she won't go.

A new wonderful friend tells me to cherish her, embrace her. Look her in the eyes and hold her to me.

Yes, OK. I see her, I see her pain, I see her confusion, I see the little girl who never believed she was every worthy of love. I love this fiery, confused, sad, creature of passion and love. It is love , welcome, belonging that she wants, she just doesn't know how to get it, or what it looks like when she has it. Like any little child who doesn't know how to ask for what she needs, doesn't even know exactly what she does need. She doesn't know how else to behave. She's frustrated, can't articulate her needs, feels forlorn and left behind. She comes out too much, she damages those I love, she damages me, but she doesn't want to. She doesn' t know what else to do, how else to behave.

I embrace this creature, this part of myself that cries in the night with loneliness, that tries to banish the loneliness by begging for others to fill the great void. She is scared. She doesn't know what else to do. She risks losing it all. But she doesn't understand that there is nothing to lose, that love is an ocean we all swim in, all the time. That she can merely open her heart, open her skin and her eyes and her lungs and her arms, and welcome all this in: the pain, the beauty, the fear, the sadness, the love, the anger, the joy. The great, cosmic Love that includes all these things.

I want to rock her in my arms and tell her it will all be OK, no matter what happens. The voids we've been seeking to fill are not voids at all, but open spaces. I pray to the universe and to the mystery to please, please, help me, help us, see the wonderful bliss and joy that is ours if we can only open ourselves to it. I apologize, once again, from the bottom of my heart, to every creature we've wounded with our carelessness and despair. And we walk forward together, arm in arm, like new lovers, eyes wide with wonder at what the future holds for us.

1 comment:

Kirk said...

I liken you imagery of Kali to that of the phoenix, from the ashes of destruction, and from the nothingness a rebirth. Maybe they are somehow connected mythological, not directly, but in a Joesph Campbell sort of way. The image is of an unimaginable resilience. How you transform something so powerful to something so tender as an embrace of a child is almost magical. To deal with the nothingness directly takes strength. All the time we are taught to fill up our lives, either with possessions or activities. But sometime when we are very still, and listen to the echoing silence, that void, all we are becomes clearer.