A logical mind, my greatest addiction.
Narrating the same stories,
Over and over
...and over.
Sometimes, everything in my wake is crashing...
But sometimes
MOST times,
Things are "fine".
Maybe even "good"
...but I'm still falling apart inside.
Here, I wander.
Here, I ache.
Lost in stagnant waters,
FIXATING.
A loss,
A heartbreak,
A perpetual fear,
The disintegration of imagined control...
A longing.
Where nothing is left,
For me.
Of me.
A shell of who I once was.
How do I get to the other side…
Of nothing?
When life stops moving, touching, inspiring...
When forward feels like downward,
And upward feels like drowning,
All I can know for sure…
The foundation is already crumbling,
And I won't stay numb to the wreckage.
Or I'll die here.
And it might not be quick.
Anesthetize or Dismantle
Every choice, a cycle ––
Death.
Life.
Passing on.
Moving toward.
Where there's memory,
There is strategy.
And I've been here before.
Steeped in a knowing...
I need 21 days.
Out of the country (mostly).
Out of routines.
Out of obligatory tasks that have lost my choosing.
I need that deep dive into unknown worlds...
Of plant medicine
Of culture
Of abandoned comforts.
Most of all...
I need sanctuary,
To not turn back on the shaking bridge…
To fall apart,
And keep on walking.
If I want what I want (and I do)
I am leaping from track #3 to #12.
Fuck #4-11...
I am all the timelines.
I am the medicine.
The threat IS imminent,
My body knows.
I cry mercy.
No, that's not it...
I cry Grace.
It doesn't matter how it happens,
Or what it takes…
I leave everything,
To remember what HERE means.
One world must end,
For a new one to begin.
21 days to break open…
A habit,
Incessant thought process.
Way of living,
Seeing,
Moving ––
That's burning me alive.
I stop:
Working out,
Working on,
Working toward
I disconnect from:
Wifi,
Calendars,
Clients.
Time.
I release: knowing:
When I’ll eat,
What I’ll do,
Who I’ll become,
Where I'm going when I get back.
21 days.
I embark upon the uncomfortable descent i
Into No Plan.
Shedding. Molting. Emptying
Into No-thing.
.
A deep, gaping space
I tear myself open.
Into the gray matter.
Unclenched from what I love to control...
Renaturing.
To what I love.
21 Days.
Into the abyss…
Into radiant, piercing light…
Until the aperture widens
One more cycle complete.
And life,
She pulls back to me.
