even when I’m broken

I’ve learnt so much in the last year. I’ve learnt about the Cold War and the Russian Revolution … I’ve learnt about Shakespeare and Wuthering Heights; but what’s more, I’ve learnt so much in what it means to live. Survival was my thing. Just get through. There doesn’t need to be joy, heat and flare, just survive Sian. For them. Now, I’ve learnt how to bring my body into different shapes and in doing so have been guided to a path that speaks of truth. It doesn’t promise perfection; it doesn’t even promise peace. But it promises a life, lived whole. At times all this knowledge allows me completion. I feel that my edges are raw but dissolving. Slowly drifting and moving – not the static cage around my heart that they used to be. My mind expands and contracts. But every time it expands I fill my lungs with pure, sweet air and let it into places that for so long had been stagnant streams, growing tired and hard to bare. Some days I feel energy tingle in my fingertips. And it’s bliss.

 

But some days I still find fear. I find anger and frustration; self-loathing and discomfort so real, I simply can’t sit still. And then there’s disgust. Who am I – trying to follow a path of ‘equanimity’? One bad day and it all falls away – I’m and imposter and I’m so god-damned small. All those dreams of dissipating, fading into the soil where the world can no longer hurt – they come back, and I’m ‘me’ again, this self that deserves not one warm word, not one joyous moment. It all comes back and it HURTS LIKE HELL.

 

Today was one of those days. But …. Underneath all the fear and loathing; lying still below the waves of ruthless doubt – I have laid a foundation. A foundation of worth. I can communicate with my body and in turn unleash my mind. I can watch it, stand back from it. Allow it to pass … to settle. Allow myself breath. Allow myself to come back.

 

Lose myself, and come back.

 

It’s the coming back I live for. It’s the moment when everything – even the pain – only opened more doors. Stretched out my eyelids. Offered me tomorrow.

 

I haven’t got there yet, today. But I can rest, knowing it will come. I will let go. Again and again and again. I may have to live out these days of pain and letting go until my last. But it is far better, far better, than not letting go at all. I feel alive, even when I am broken.

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