To What if or Not to What if

Trying to decide if I should wait another day before I write. Ta’hings are still so very much in development. Nonetheless, here I am. I don’t particularly care to write when it feels like no one is listening. And that’s how it feels right now. The Universe is rearranging itself and I am waiting patiently for everyone to take their places, and don’t want to distract them while they do it.

I had a few days by myself. Last year it would have been one exhausting, anxiety provoking ordeal, I was still so wounded. Not so this time. A lot has changed in a year. My connection to myself is finally sinking in deeply. A tiny bit of resentment remains. I am working on the forgiveness needed to undo that tie that binds as well. I’m not the tattered shell of a person I once was. I am also not the angry beast seeking revenge for those tatters, and that, my friends, is a sight to behold. There is strength in forgiveness. Unspeakable strength.

My roomie slash I don’t know what to call him anymore, came back from his trip away. He came back from his travails in what I once heard someone call Babylon. Babylon had offered him up some tasty treats. Hard to pass down treats. And I don’t have time to play the what if’s game. I have to focus on playing God and Doctor and Goddess to my Universe so those what if sucker punches no longer gain momentum. It’s not their existence that’s the problem it’s when they pick up steam and start spiraling a perfectly good come back story into shreds.

Outside my window a bird comes near with a beautiful yellow tipped tail and reminds me those days are over. Those days when I have to get all worked up about the worthless Section 8 voucher that will be expiring in a few days because it isn’t priced for the market I can use it in. Which means there is nothing I can afford on my own even with it. Those days when I would get angry and feel defeated over Babylon choosing to offer up those sweet treats to the other half of my stable situation. Those days when I felt compelled to rage against the machine because it doesn’t have to be this way! Because as quickly as the what if’s come, the waters come and wash them away. I take a deep breath and see the “even better” rainbow sparkling in the sunshine left in the wake.

It isn’t faith this time. Faith got me here. No doubt about it. And I honor you keepers of it, hear me well. But here, now, from my own center of knowing is where I witness the codes being rewritten. The last of the veils removed from what once was. That is where I stand. Where I ask for help and see it arrive immediately in the form of a hawk’s call or the rain to clear the skies from smoke or the bees dancing outside my window saying hello. It is the knowing that being brought so low, feeling the burn of mankind’s suffering and the residue it left on my empathic glow, allows me to fully rise with confidence, the balance between no longer divisible, knowing the compassion necessary to wield the machinery of the Universe, to bend the bends of time, to curve the curves of light and shadow in a more pleasing dance is woven in. Each stitch, each poke through my auric field, each baited breath as the strands tightened, weaving into the layers of this human Be-ing, endured like a tattoo on these wings strong enough to carry the world back where she belongs. Aye. It is I and I am.


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