This morning I wake with the River. Not the real river, but a feeling in my bones that I have traveled there in the night to listen to her, to witness her wisdom, in all the teardrops of my soul. This river is the river to speak to all rivers, pristine, holy, alive with purity for her children. And I miss her. I wonder if she alone could heal my breast, wash me clean and empty me back to myself and the belief that everything will be alright.
Everyone keeps saying "everything will be alright" but how can they know? Perhaps what they speak of is that, Ultimately....everything will be alright. Even illness and fear, are going to be "alright". But this isn't good enough for me. I want everything to be alright according to my plan, to my idea of what "alright" looks like. I was expecting a miracle, and to me a masectomy, is a flat out failure. I am failing. The dream of my life did not include loosing this breast for reasons, that don't seem concrete enough. Confused cells? Repressed emotions? (Don't we all have these--WHY would I be the one to get this?) A rejected feminine? Anger? Touching people's bodies? Everyone seems to have their opinion as to why Aylen has breast cancer, but the truth is, does any of them REALLY know? Most of the time, I feel they need to create a reason for their own understanding and fears, so that my cancer can seem part of a cause and effect situation, something, that if they know the reason for, well, then they themselves can avoid. It is too out of control and vulnerable to consider, sometimes things just happen, because if this can happen to me, well this, can happen to them, to anyone. We are not invulnerable to the physical laws of our third dimensional reality--right?
But then again, I dont know this is the "answer". Perhaps the only answer is to love, deeper, longer, sharper, more comprehensively in all directions that the cancer can take you.....fear, pity, anger, confusion, isolation, frustration, wanting to turn it into a "blessing", wanting to understand its scientific laws, all of it. Bald heads, nausea, doctors, healers, mother issues, father issues....blah blah blah. Maybe going into that space, nestled so tight along side the mother whisper, that is god, that quiet space in between all the scampering thoughts, in the wisest corner of the soul, rests a knowing so powerful, it consumes all desire to know, to figure out, to understand. It just is. I was walking on the street, I came to a street light and I looked at a dog, a beautiful rottweiler and it came to me....the cancer just is, it could be no other way. Why must I scour all the events in my life to find where it happened and when and how and who and what, it just is. It came to teach me to surrender to Love, to stop fighting, to remember the sacredness of life, the fragileness of human life. This teaching is in the form of cancer, for whatever reason, some want to say "you chose it", well perhaps on some level, but still I feel these kind of answers, point to a human need to feel in control of God, to feel that if we make the "right" choices, then the universe is under our command and jurisdiction. Is it?
There is a River, that runs thru a piece of land I have danced with and sweated on, and woken up under endless night skys of stars, a piece of land I have shared with friends in a good good way. In the simple way of gratitude. Digging in the earth, with my hands to create spirals and turtles woven with water and dirt, decorated with flowers and stones and small gathered sticks. These have been some of the happiest moments of my life, filled with a gratitude, immeasurable, a gratitude that needs no "answer" that doesnt need "my choice", a gratitude that simply consumes me, to say, this, is all there is.
I have slipped my self into her waters, naked and human to hear the currents of her understanding. To lay my head to her water, one ear submerged in her liquid, the other ear pointed to the sky, and she has spoken. Wordless and present with me. Trailing my fingers over her body, marveling at how water forms itself so delicately with touch, so perfectly in the fabric of god's creation. The mud under my feet, soft and impressionable, my body weightless and light, free to move but slow, slow as the water resists me. To dance in the river, is to be taught the dance again and again. The endless creativity and aliveness of water, mud, bodies, air, sky, stones. Pushing myself off of rocks, finding where the shallowness teaches me to find length in laying down, in offering myself totally. Submerging my head to hear that primordial womb memory of being consumed by infiniteness, that sound that is the rush of water thru time. Of the trust in the depths below me that I cannot see, in the creatures that may or may not swim past my knees.
I have not know a poetry of truth deeper than this River, I have not experienced a depth of sacredness so comprehensive in one single solid experience of a place on the planet. So I visit her, again and again from my apartment in New York City, thru my dreams, thru my visceral memories and ask her to teach me, find me, wash me, to remind me all is not lost. That if I can find my way back to her shores, to her body of trust and sacredness, if I can drink again from her boundless resources, then I will know to such a depth of knowing, that all is not lost. And that place where cancer is no more and never has been and never could be, will swim me to salvation, will pour into my heart like an endless weaving dream that has only to give. Ribbons and ribbons of healing water elixir, the wisdom of the first medicine, the womb medicine, the ocean of god, of goddess in an out pouring of river magic. As long as this exists on the planet at this time, I know everything is going to be alright. It already is. It can be no other way.
Everyone keeps saying "everything will be alright" but how can they know? Perhaps what they speak of is that, Ultimately....everything will be alright. Even illness and fear, are going to be "alright". But this isn't good enough for me. I want everything to be alright according to my plan, to my idea of what "alright" looks like. I was expecting a miracle, and to me a masectomy, is a flat out failure. I am failing. The dream of my life did not include loosing this breast for reasons, that don't seem concrete enough. Confused cells? Repressed emotions? (Don't we all have these--WHY would I be the one to get this?) A rejected feminine? Anger? Touching people's bodies? Everyone seems to have their opinion as to why Aylen has breast cancer, but the truth is, does any of them REALLY know? Most of the time, I feel they need to create a reason for their own understanding and fears, so that my cancer can seem part of a cause and effect situation, something, that if they know the reason for, well, then they themselves can avoid. It is too out of control and vulnerable to consider, sometimes things just happen, because if this can happen to me, well this, can happen to them, to anyone. We are not invulnerable to the physical laws of our third dimensional reality--right?
But then again, I dont know this is the "answer". Perhaps the only answer is to love, deeper, longer, sharper, more comprehensively in all directions that the cancer can take you.....fear, pity, anger, confusion, isolation, frustration, wanting to turn it into a "blessing", wanting to understand its scientific laws, all of it. Bald heads, nausea, doctors, healers, mother issues, father issues....blah blah blah. Maybe going into that space, nestled so tight along side the mother whisper, that is god, that quiet space in between all the scampering thoughts, in the wisest corner of the soul, rests a knowing so powerful, it consumes all desire to know, to figure out, to understand. It just is. I was walking on the street, I came to a street light and I looked at a dog, a beautiful rottweiler and it came to me....the cancer just is, it could be no other way. Why must I scour all the events in my life to find where it happened and when and how and who and what, it just is. It came to teach me to surrender to Love, to stop fighting, to remember the sacredness of life, the fragileness of human life. This teaching is in the form of cancer, for whatever reason, some want to say "you chose it", well perhaps on some level, but still I feel these kind of answers, point to a human need to feel in control of God, to feel that if we make the "right" choices, then the universe is under our command and jurisdiction. Is it?
There is a River, that runs thru a piece of land I have danced with and sweated on, and woken up under endless night skys of stars, a piece of land I have shared with friends in a good good way. In the simple way of gratitude. Digging in the earth, with my hands to create spirals and turtles woven with water and dirt, decorated with flowers and stones and small gathered sticks. These have been some of the happiest moments of my life, filled with a gratitude, immeasurable, a gratitude that needs no "answer" that doesnt need "my choice", a gratitude that simply consumes me, to say, this, is all there is.
I have slipped my self into her waters, naked and human to hear the currents of her understanding. To lay my head to her water, one ear submerged in her liquid, the other ear pointed to the sky, and she has spoken. Wordless and present with me. Trailing my fingers over her body, marveling at how water forms itself so delicately with touch, so perfectly in the fabric of god's creation. The mud under my feet, soft and impressionable, my body weightless and light, free to move but slow, slow as the water resists me. To dance in the river, is to be taught the dance again and again. The endless creativity and aliveness of water, mud, bodies, air, sky, stones. Pushing myself off of rocks, finding where the shallowness teaches me to find length in laying down, in offering myself totally. Submerging my head to hear that primordial womb memory of being consumed by infiniteness, that sound that is the rush of water thru time. Of the trust in the depths below me that I cannot see, in the creatures that may or may not swim past my knees.
I have not know a poetry of truth deeper than this River, I have not experienced a depth of sacredness so comprehensive in one single solid experience of a place on the planet. So I visit her, again and again from my apartment in New York City, thru my dreams, thru my visceral memories and ask her to teach me, find me, wash me, to remind me all is not lost. That if I can find my way back to her shores, to her body of trust and sacredness, if I can drink again from her boundless resources, then I will know to such a depth of knowing, that all is not lost. And that place where cancer is no more and never has been and never could be, will swim me to salvation, will pour into my heart like an endless weaving dream that has only to give. Ribbons and ribbons of healing water elixir, the wisdom of the first medicine, the womb medicine, the ocean of god, of goddess in an out pouring of river magic. As long as this exists on the planet at this time, I know everything is going to be alright. It already is. It can be no other way.
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