Aloe
Alone amidst a sea of noise. Alone amidst the scraps of community, the presence of mankind. Alone amidst life itself, alone, I am alone. And I am reminded that the words we speak are our spells, yet how can I break myself out from underneath the spell that I find myself within? The one of leaning so far out of my seat to see if the ground will be able to catch my body, to see if the roller coaster has already left the terminal.
There’s stories within my head of past lives, of pains so deep within the heart they pierce like glass shards underneath the deepest layers of skin, yet still I carry on, yet still I carry and go forth because even if it bleeds, even if it hurts so much that I feel I may simply break, fall apart at the seams, I know that it is the only way. My body pushes me forward. My body knows my path, my body knows what’s on the other side, even if the land around is dark and all that I seem to feel is heartache, something pushes me forward. I’ve made it back to the base of the volcano, the mountain with its 9 streams of lava, they’ve all dried up now, and here I am, back again at the place that I once had to push so hard to get through, to find my way through with meticulous care, I’ve found my way back, yet now it’s hard and nearing cold and dark, there’s a faint memory of smoke in the air. This whole place that I’ve been to before, that I’ve known, time and time again, I’ve returned. To the base of the creature that created it all. The greatest land of heart and heaven and the destruction of everything in sight. The burst through the bottom layer, we are all children at heart. We are all children underneath it all. Curious and excited and learning and confused and scared and so full of love that it cannot be contained. So why has it all become what it is? Why has everything seemed to fall into complete disarray and disaster? Why is there so much harm and heartache and pain being enforced, encouraged and inflicted? Why is there so much that we cannot seem to escape from?
As if it’s been enshrined and encrypted within our cells themselves, the pains of the past. Our ancestors, their ancestors, the land, the stars, the sea, the trees. Yet, yet still they grow, still they go forth, how can we do it, how have we been able to do it amidst seas of such pain? Must we hold back on what we feel? When this reality seems like vicious and bitter cold compared to the ones written of in story, encoded in memory, held within our hearts with gentle strong hands like a newborn child, a life so precious it creates a field of light around it that is impenetrable, bright and glowing amidst wails of agony to be born into hands that are also learning, unsure, yet intuitive and committed to creating an environment of joy and play. A leap pad into destiny. Born into hands that are stable within their own childlike heart. The courage of a lion, to be born, to wish to come forth into this land, to know the power we all individually have to share, and choosing, intentionally to live. Choosing to love. Time and time and time again. Coming back to the present moment, back to the heart, back to the breath. This is real courage, this is real strength, to keep a heart open amidst a world so cruel and hard and seeking to keep the spirit down. To dance, to laugh, to cry, to love. To breathe and to feel.
Love will always show us the way through. Love will always guide us where to go. Love eternal. Love.
