Friday, January 28, 2011

Wings of the Heart, wide open

I was fettered, and didn't know it. Silk cords that bound my wings to my body, they were beautiful and for a long time I did not protest. They didn't seem to bother me. My soul, she knew. The wise woman beneath, sitting in her cozy cave, she knew too. A series of events and words, and suddenly even the light touch of these cords became too much to bear. I began to understand the price I was paying for the safety and comfort of routine in a home life I was not meant for. Isolation for many long years because of choices I had made only allowed the cords to settle more firmly about my body, until I forgot I had wings, I forgot entirely I could fly.

The choice, once taken, showed me that when I chose to flex my wings the cords fell away like spiderwebs. There was no heavy struggle, no chafing of bonds tied too tightly. Merely push my wings out, and the cords were gone. I grew heady with freedom and leapt from the cliff! Away! Into the air, stretching my wings. The air beneath my breast, filling the space beneath. Oh exhilerating dawn! The sky fills my wings with joy! Ah, freedom!

But, what is this? What, where? Where am I going? I don't know how to fly! I can't do this! Where am I going? How could I possibly know? In fact, I don't know at all! And I look behind me at the cliff. Safety, how can I return there? I can be good, I can sit still, I can take these silken cords and live with them with love, I can do it, I can...

No, I cannot. I look at that safety and see it is no longer enough for me. The cords do not even fit anymore. My heart is beating in terror- did I make the wrong choice? Am I crazy to throw all this away? I don't even know where the sky is taking me. Or rather, where I am taking me through this great beautiful expanse. I am afraid. I am free, and I am in the air, but I am not flying yet because I don't know where to go. I don't know what I am becoming. All I know is that my heart is blindingly, terrifyingly open- so much light! So open that I ache! How can I drink it all in? I want what is coming. My soul knows. She knows that to fly is to live, and I want to live. I don't want to just exist, a shadow of myself, looking for wings by the light and shade on the wall. I want my wings under me, I want to know what it is to truly live, to feel the passion of my soul surging up through this open heart and into the sky. There is enough, there is more than enough, it wells up and through me and I want to be ready! I want to be free!

And so in doubt I turned to the wise woman within, in her sweet and cozy cave. I sit quietly and look within, and she is there, curled on her furs, knitting by her fire. She has happy crinkles by her eyes, and I know her. She is me, she is the Grandmother. She speaks quietly and it takes courage to listen and stay still enough to hear her.
"The choice you have made is the right one. You cannot stay where you are. The life you made here is not enough for you. You will die by degrees in unhappiness in it, and you know that. The one you are leaving behind, what he chooses is not for you to decide. You were the guide and the mirror, the doorway. Such great gifts you have given him, helping to see himself, his path, his own light. Do not fear being forgotten here, because your love was a turning point for him to greater love and greater bliss. You cannot stay and you know that. You need a greater, deeper spark to feel met and fulfilled, and he has not been this for you, and was not meant to be this for you. You found him when you were lonely and there, such amazing friendship blossomed in you both! However he cannot touch that deeper part of you, you must find it first yourself and find a way to open it. That is where your gifts lie, and your greater potential for love- of self, and of others. This is not your mate. If you never have one it is not something to despair of, find your passion first and let life unfold."

The quivering in my belly is still there, the beating of my heart- but less. More steady. I know what I need to do; to step onto the path and trust that what unfolds next is what I need in order to learn not just to fly, but to soar and live, fully.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Embracing Wind

Long, long ago a lover said to me:
"Loving you is like putting the wind in a box"
at the end of our torrid affair. That statement affected me deeply, with a sense of shame or disbelonging; if I couldn't figure out how to tame my wild windy heart, who would be able to love me? Would I, in my fickleness, be able to stand still long enough to allow it?

Many years later, I found myself coming full circle. This urging for freedom somehow, this need to spread my wings, to fly, let go, dance and soar and see where it takes me. This is in my blood. As another romance comes to an end- this one the most gentle, kind, loving and considerate breakup I have ever had the grace to experience- I looked into my lover's eyes as he began to articulate the same concept. I filled in for him:
"You mean, loving me is like trying to put the wind in a box."
"Yes! Exactly, and beautifully put!"

I had a momentary spasm of despair. Ah, still unloveable because I'm so much fire and air! Is that so?
Then, suddenly I was struck by a realization. Why is this something to be changed? Is it not a gift somehow, some way? No it does not fit the conventional notion of settling down, putting in roots, making babies and home life and so on. Perhaps I have been trying too hard to force myself into a role my soul does not want. I have fought and tried, cried and stretched and reached to the deepest parts of myself to find the way through so I could keep this love, learn to settle down and enjoy home life and that sort of domestic partnership.
My heart will not have it. The more I tried to force it, the more depressed I got. I felt flawed somehow, broken, because I could not come to a conclusion as to whether I felt I was capable of having babies; whether I was comfortable sacrificing so much of my creativity and time, my art and solitude which is required for such an undertaking.

What if I have been fighting what my soul IS, what my soul WANTS, all this time? Trying to learn to love in this way, learn to be loveable in this way. I am meant for other things. I like the freedom of wandering where I will, of deciding on a whim to change my entire afternoon on an adventure. I love being so close to community that I can touch them anytime, but have large amounts of sacred and romantic solitude that bring me bliss. Am I not a mother to many creative "children"? Are there not more to come? There are many ways to birth consciousness into the world. In our state of overpopulation, it is not necessary to birth love and peace in the way of more human beings. I can have a great impact on those already inhabiting this planet, in taking joy in the beautiful children of my friends.

I am not ruling children out. What has happened recently though gave me pause; my beautiful and wonderful partner, a man with an exquisitely open and generous heart, desires children in a clear and positive way. I cannot find that same clarity, as much as I love him and our connection. This issue of babies brings me great stress, sorrow and anguish. I still feel I have growing to do before they could be an option; at my age, that growing could very well outlast my reproductive years. And so I release him. My heart aches. It is a difficult decision, as I have never met anyone as suited to me as he. But I love him, and his happiness, and so I let him go. I wish for him that he finds a beautiful and wonderful partner who cannot imagine not having his babies with him, in cheerful messy chaos and noise. It is not for me.

I am doing what my ancestors could not, or did not- heal the rage and long abuse and sorrow in our line. So much pain handed down! The fear is- I heal this line, does it not need blood children to carry it on? I don't know, but I do know that each person who commits to healing further heals the planet, in enormous degrees. I want to see more children raised with non violence and compassion. I want to see more wanted babies, not those born by accident into stress, misgivings, or worse- violence and poverty.

I don't know what I am meant to do. It is more than just vet med and dancing, playing with my friends. I open my Self to whatever this is, so that I can find the peace that lies within knowing the true nature of the soul. Why is it I am so "flighty" and free? Why is it that on one hand, I can commit with an iron will, but desire freedom from shackles so much I cry with the pain of them? What freedom am I longing for? I want to know. I commit to knowing this.