Sunday, May 31, 2009

May 31, 2009

The problem with death is that I am left looking at myself, naked, under florescent lights, mirrors over and around me.

I see all of my flaws, my attributes are hidden.

My view disgusts me.

My truth is I see unworthiness.

You can't tell me it's not there. I won't believe you.

You can't tell me that it's not true. It is for me.

I have been living with it for a long time, dodging and weaving, ducking and hiding, ignoring, yelling, fighting it.

His death makes me see.

I can't ignore it.

I will have to deal with this.

The little girl in me is in full temper tantrum.

All I can do is hold her, tell her it will be ok.

That is the only truth that matters, I guess.

It's also the one I fully believe.

2 comments:

  1. like
    being parent
    and child
    at the same time,
    no?

    like
    learning to be
    patient with yourself,
    giving yourself
    time to tie your shoes,
    remember your keys,
    time to scream
    and
    roll around on the floor saying NO,
    time
    time
    time
    time.

    .

    ReplyDelete
  2. just listened to pema chodron say that when the fear comes, cradle it in lovingkindness.

    it sounds so easy when she says it....

    xxdanna

    ReplyDelete