For Next Time

Yesterday the sadness was so deep, I couldn't find the bottom of it. It stopped me. I've been moving, numbing, pacifying, gracing, being "gentle with myself," but yesterday after the morning hours passed and I finally peeled myself out of the sanctuary of my bed, it paralyzed me.

At first I felt it in my chest, my breath slowed to a near stop, and I closed my eyes and held onto the chair nearby. I watched it carefully, from the inside, move through my heart, into the pit of my belly.

I tried to ignore it but it was alive now, and breathing through me.

It brought me to a holy place, seated, a place I know. I wanted to find some comfort, or help it pass through, or ask for help...all of those things, and then the tears came.

And they haven't stopped.

When I let this sadness rise to the surface it is a painful release; the well is deep, an old wound from lives, generations, and not easy to empty - so I let it use me as it wishes. No resistance, just sadness and emptying.

Sadness for the pain. Sadness for the loss. Sadness for the dishonesty. Sadness for the years of trauma. Sadness for a path of undoing. Not just mine, but for so many. A deep, heavy sadness.

And today in the cold, a long walk to a familiar place - a walk I've done so many times, toward a story, the illusion, the source. Knowing the outcome, but making deals with myself and the Universe along the way. A walk that ends in the same deep disappointment - that I've been feeling since my very first incarnation. Maybe one life I won't walk, maybe next time, I won't walk.

Taking inventory, of lovers and white flags. Of time, and lives. Of pain, and healing. Of the why of all of it.

Is it for next time?

If it's for next time, let me play the peace offering song sooner. If it's for next time, let me act courageously on my intuition. If it's for next time, let me get angry and stand my ground. If it's for next time, let me get lost in love over, and over, and over again. If it's for next time, let me feel worthy, and feminine, and whole. If it's for next time, let my body turn cold water into hot, lies into truth, fear into courage, pain into healing. If it's for next time, give me this pain, and deep loss, all of it.

…and show me what to do with it.