Individual Pain & Collective Healing

I've hurt. Everyone has. We have all experienced some degree of physical pain.

I once subjected myself to an experience meant to cause physical pain. My legs shook. My face tingled. I felt hot all over. I neither cried nor howled; I did not lose conciousness. I just felt that voluntary pain for a prescribed moment in time. Then it was over. It was passing.

Beyond that one experience, to date, thank goodness, I have never experienced a physical pain powerful enough to provoke an extreme reaction. I may hurt for a particular moment in time to a finite degree. Then it's over. It is always passing.

My experience with emotional pain is so incredibly different that it's almost amusing. I have felt emotional pain that left me reeling for days, weeks, months on end. I know it when it's sharp, chronic, and exacerbated. I have experienced emotional pain that took the sun out of the sky, did away with the stars and moon, and made hope and better seem like fairy-tale intangibles. Recovery was make-believe.

Yes, I know emotional pain provocative enough to cause wailing. I cried myself to sleep. I sobbed while bargaining with God. "Can this be over? I don't want to feel again." I cursed morning when it came. I cursed the chemical composition of my brain. I mourned life and breath. In the darkest hours, I contemplated the relief of death; on more than one occasion I became a threat to myself. 

I've hurt enough to know that pain is subjective. It's not easily measured and varies based on perspectives. Yes, we all know what it's like to experience pain, but no two experiences are the same. Maybe generosity includes offerings of acknowledgement and compassion for the singularity of every experience, each other's unique and valuable feelings. Maybe this is integral to our collective healing.

Solo

Their conversations aid

Relaxation and stimulation.

Her imagination

Leads to saturation.

Disregarding the isolation,

She drifts to their next encounter.

Her fingers dive downward

Underwater and underwear.

With pleasure,

She's there.

She is solo.

Solo

Solo

With imagination

Her fingers are so low.

So low

So low...

Perspective Shifts: Humility & Love

This morning I asked for humility as I was reminded that it is a bridge to greater compassion, empathy, and understanding. I had an opportunity to check my own arrogance and pride, and the awareness of my lack of humility, in and of itself, was humbling.

The voice in my mind (the one I should listen to) reminded me of the hypocrisy of measuring arrogance in others and being inept at gauging my own. Moreover, it reminded me I have no business appraising others. It is far too easy to overvalue oneself and undervalue others and vice versa. This is problematic at best and detrimental at worst.

If your heart's desire is to really love others and exemplify kindness, you have to be able to recognize everyone's intrinsic worth. For those who are gifted with balance, this is likely automatic. For the rest of us, however, checking egocentrism has to be a regular, conscious thing. Otherwise our perceptions are skewed, and we view others (and often ourselves) from harsh, unkind lenses.

This morning the best of me said.: "It is okay to be comfortable in your station, proud of your accomplishments, and mindful of your own resilience, determination, strivings, and successes. It is not okay to use yourself a measuring stick by which you determine how others should be appreciated or depreciated."

How do I know that everyone has intrinsic, unyielding value? 

For me, the answer lies in two verses.

John 3:16:
For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. KJV

And, my favorite, Romans 8:38-39
For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,  Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. KJV

If others, like myself, are shrouded in the love of God in spite of any and everything, and I believe we are. Who are you to diminish me? Who am I to diminish anyone?

It just occurred to me. Maybe God's love, the immeasurable, unchanging love of the immeasurable, unchanging Creator, is the greatest equalizer.

Beautiful Forgetting

Was it April 2nd? Maybe it was April 3rd? Hmmm? Was it on a Monday or Wednesday? Honestly, I cannot remember.

As many of you may know, I was married in 2012, separated in 2015, and divorced in 2016. The time elapsed between date of divorce and present day (four plus years), is now greater than the life of the marriage itself, three plus years. Even so, all week my brain has attempted to make me remember an approaching date it once stored with significance. 

I checked my calendar multiple times to ensure I wasn't forgetting a birthday or appointment. (I am not.) I ruminated. Scratched my head. Really thought it out. What am I forgetting?

Finally, it occurred to me that I was married early in April of 2012. Or was it 2013? You all, I do not remember. It feels like that was lifetime ago. How many versions of myself have I discovered since that time? Do I still know that Kechia? Is it wrong to forget?

No. 

The answer to my last question is definitely no. 

It took me a long time to understand this, but it's okay to forget. In fact, sometimes it is preferable. Every individual and experience does not deserve lifelong mental markers and acknowledgement. Grasp the lesson and allow the minutia to slip away.

It's liberating. 

I gave myself permission to forget. More accurately, I give myself permission to forget. Forget birthdays, anniversaries, milestones,  particulars, sensations, words, actions, events, emotions, people, places, things, and any and every detail that is incompatible with healing, progression, restoration, growth, peace, and joy. 

I used to obstruct forgetting by insistent remembrance...Rehashing and rehearsing details over and over again until they were ingrained in my memories. Because there are details that unworthy of this process, rumination has the potential to be ruinous. Most importantly, I cannot allow my mental storage to reach its capacity with my history when my present and future are so deserving of room. 

My Grandma often says "We all forget." Whenever she misplaced or couldn't recall something, she'd assure herself and remind us of the normalcy of forgetting.  To that, this day, I say Amen, Grandma. Amen. Let it be so. 

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

I will not drown in my tears
Or sink in sorrow
I will not give into this fear
Or fret about tomorrow
I will not die of loneliness
Or waste away in pride
I will not grow weary of living
Or mourn being alive...
Moments are passing.
Feelings are fleeting.
They wash over me,
but I'm still here.
I'm still breathing...

The Llama and The Raccoon

Meet Kechia Llama and Steven Raccoon aka Stevie Racc. Although Stevie Racc is full of farts, sarcasm, granola, and Yogi tea; wears the same shirt year round; and happens to be a terrible driver and a tremendous pain in the ass, Kechia Llama loves him very much. Although Kechia Llama is a weirdo whose farts are louder (but less toxic) and is far left leaning on the spectrum of normal to bat shit crazy, Steven Raccoon loves her very much. Kechia Llama and Stevie Racc are different, and they have had many adventures and misadventures. Kechia Llama and Steven Raccoon are somehow still friends, and they lean on each other tenderly atop their bookshelf home. That is how they will remain. The end.

Stream of Consciousness

It is likely my own depravity activating compassion. It maybe rooted in egocentricity, but I root for your absolution. Your forgiveness is my solution to get from underneath this shame because I know that if you change, I am not required to stay the same. It's strange how I'm drawing parallels between society and self and seeing myself connected to it all. I'm neither root nor cause. I'm human, and I am trying. And, if my interpretation of the text is correct, God dwells in me although I am shaped in iniquity. My mind cannot wrap itself around this dichotomy, so it calls it hypocrisy.  Ashamed of who I was and afraid to be who I'm meant to be, I stagger in the present overwhelmed by the variety, choices upon choices. Freewill makes one ill, but freewill makes one free. To paraphrase the revolutionist, for me it's death or liberty. Am I dying? Or am I free? It depends on one's perspective, and the world is fucking gray. Everything is subjective. I'm hypothesizing, not prophesying; the words are from LeKechia, not God. But if I am His, isn't my being God's will and as intentional as the Earth herself?  If I am created in His image, haven't I been powerful since birth with purpose upon purpose? I'm certain of few things. I have more questions than answers. None of this shit is simple. I am learning to live with these intricacies. If I am too complex for my understanding, how can I expect to demystify The One who created me?