So I am.
Stop. Be humble. Ignite. Those things that light, need you. Those things that smolder, need you. Those things that produce only smoke, don't need you - they never create any thunder.
I feel re-ignited, spiritually. I feel reconnected, spiritually. I also feel reconnected, peacefully.
The turmoil of the steps of change hit me with a hammering fear of loss; a fear so strong that I went through the processes of grieving before any need to grieve ever really had a chance to manifest. I appreciate that piece of myself and, at times, loath it.
Being someone who is wired for change can oft times come across as someone who just doesn't give a shit about loss - i.e. insensitive. Which is the furthest thing from the truth. Especially now. Now that I have so many connections that are sewn inside of me with real love.
A Floodplain holds me, while a Mistress, a Turtle, a Native Hippy, a Red Foxx, a couple Silver Foxes, a Wild Horse Woman and many, many other 'totems' just love.
The 'totems' are sometimes solid rocks sitting upon my shoreline - steadfast to the spot. Others, ebb and flow with the tide. Crashing into my shore, tickling my heart until I smile and then moving back out to their own shorelines, with their own steadfast rocks upon them.
Further more, some have become rigid, setting their sights, like a lighthouse, far out to sea, far away from me. Sometimes their light runs across my shore, but just as soon it is aimed back out to sea. Shining so brightly into the darkness. An attempt at finding, within the dark distance, opportunities that can only come to them, to any of us, from deep out at sea.
Yet, the lighthouse protects, or should I say blocks, from any opportunity. Creating an unwillingness to attempt placing feet into even the shallowest world of the sea.
It is expected to go this way though, as inside the lighthouse you are far, far from the shore. Protected from the sea. Watching and longing are the only accomplishments to be achieved here; as the turbulence of thought crashes with each wave, larger, smaller, all around. The light searches past their breaks.
No matter what, no matter where, I hold love for all here upon my shore. On my shore I remain ... patient.
Non-poetically speaking, there is sometimes a sense of demand and self-righteousness in "leaving", in escaping to the lighthouse, that I just can't kau tau to. I understand this place - the demanding self righteousness is the second point in the grieving process: anger. Followed up quickly with the third: bargaining. The first point being isolation and denial - the initial reason the self takes root in the lighthouse.
I have been there in the lighthouse, isolated on that island, shining my light brightly in hopes of being seen and connected to from the vast sea of life moving all around me. So far outside of it all that the waves crash angrily all around me, the action seems so strong here. It leaves one to miss out on the fact that nothing more is happening within the lighthouse than a self-enforced escape from reality. A distracted attempt to matter when there is no one who that light can truly matter to more than the you whom is no longer allowed upon the shore.
With a distracting obviousness the waves crash all around the lighthouse, yet from within one still continually misses out on the fact that there is no shore for anyone or anything to land upon. Only big cliff rocks for the waves to crash ever harder and higher upon.
No, there is no shore, just a bright light to direct with. A light so bright you can feel yourself pulling all the ships toward you. A light that soon serves to leave one wondering why, even with as hard as you pull, all the ships seem to continue to pass by in the night - always landing on some distant shoreline other than your own.
Aye, this could be mistaken as a romantics ideal, but it is not just romance in which relationships bloom. It is upon the shore, where feet can sink into your soul, where eyes can see into the forest of your heart, where a hand can dig through grains of sand and find hidden treasures that are you.
Yet first you must have a shore to offer.
Until the point is reached, where you can sit at peace with yourself, upon an empty shore, looking out into the vastness of the sea and thinking, "oh what a lovely place it would be to drown
Until this moment you are just a lighthouse, shining bright, yet empty of mooring and full of doubt.
And from this shore you will dive into that sea and swim out, and out, and out; discovering each mystery. Until you feel the shore is so far, until you feel you may drown, until you are brought back to shore by your own tide of self doubt or, by the love one can only find within the sea. Carrying you back in. Back in, to a safe place, where you can run to the lighthouse and hide, or you can lay upon the sands of your shoreline and appreciate how far you can go, have gone, and will try and go again.
The rocks on your shoreline, always cheering you on, the waves pulling you out with them in support. Not drowning yet - the sea so full of hope. Then you reach the precipice, they have to let go, you have to swim out on your own. Out into the deep unknown, farther from the shore than you have ever been before.
It is scary, you feel lonely, it causes change. Maybe your feet are webbed now, maybe your ears grow gills behind them, maybe, like a whale you can sink to the deepest depths and return to the surface with knowledge of the far unknown. Yet finally you are experiencing, finally you are far from the shore of yourself, finally you are not trapped in the lighthouse hoping others will come find you and bring you out.
No matter how far, no matter how long, no matter how deep and wide, the shore will always be your home. The sea will always beckon you to come love. The lighthouse will remain a beacon of solitude. A place where you can learn about your light, grieve for the loss you may fear, and learn once again how to direct your light so you can stand firmly upon your shore.
Your shore. The place that is you. Filled with so many treasures that, after so many years, may require a true treasurer hunter to explorer. A treasure hunter who understands how to explore your depths. A treasurer hunter to remind you of all the wonders you have seen. The wonders you have experienced. The wonders that make you, you.
I am swimming away from my shoreline once again. The lighthouse is shining bright, but it is aiming at something far out to sea. Something I must have seen while inside it? Somewhere I must be in order to find more of me?
Will I sink to some new depths, will I grow gills and webbed feet, will I even make it past my comfort zone?
All I can do is swim! Swim! SWIM!