"When did your mind ever conceive of anything in straight lines?" Not me--never...Jen knows

I think Jen can "See Me"...since I found her, her words are my words or the words I need whenever I am stumbling along, which has been too often. There is a "knowing" there, as if she knows me. It is as though she has been with me all along or that my feet fit into her shoes....

Jen said..."our blueprints always looked more like storybooks, you were always meant for more unwieldy forms of creation"....mine do look like storybooks.

"When did your mind ever conceive of anything in straight lines? Do you ever remember a time?" Not me... She speaks to me and for me---I am doing my best to listen...her words are wise. I hope she is right, that under the rubble something is growing. 

Wrecking Ball

October 23rd, 2011

Go ahead, let the ball swing, it’s time for everything to be gone now. The old ways, the old dreams, the old structures you propped up with your impossible will and foolish, stubborn determination. Your insistence is no longer needed. The same goes for your visions, your delusions filled with other worlds, other realities, other lives that only exist in the beauty of your untamed feral mind. Do not mourn, and by all means, do not cry, for this destruction is not for the purpose of suffering or pain or even the difficulties of dying, but for a clearing, a wide open space where something new and amazing can be grown instead of built. Building was never your strong suit, try as you did to adapt to this or that mode of construction. You are more like a sower, than an architect, as anyone who has seen the drawings on your napkins could have already told you, not to mention your half-completed buildings.
When did your mind ever conceive of anything in straight lines? Do you ever remember a time? When did you ever take into account the building codes or the classifications of certain materials?
That’s what I thought.
No, you have always been more of an artist, wandering around in the woods behind the houses, picking dandelions that could be woven into crowns for unsuspecting kings and queens who never really wanted to reign in your kingdom. No, you have always been more of a naturalist, examining mud for the properties required for sculpture. No, you have always been more of an adventurer, culling through unnamed and unknown fruits and vegetables at open air markets where you know deep in your heart, the ingredients are waiting for a fine and unforgettable stew.
Doesn’t that sound right?
Good thing for you, everyone already knows, though no one ever thought it would come to this. That wrecking ball thing? Most of the time, you just leave the building, before anyone knows you’ve slipped out the back door into the garden. But, no, now, things will be different. You will make announcements. You will say with your very own mouth the answer is no. Not this. Not now. Not ever.
Let the ball go. Let the rubble pile.
You are lighting a match, you are letting it drop and with that fire you will burn every old and stubborn thing in you that wanted to bend the world to your liking. You will burn every impulse you had to mold when the best thing would have been to break and let the pieces fall where they may. You will burn the part of you that insists on knowing, on seeing, of shaping when the deepest truth is that no one knows how a seed grows or what happens in the dark earth hidden from light.
This destruction is necessary and holy and beautiful, so let the wrecking ball come. There are stories waiting to be born in you. There are gardens waiting to be planted. There are the unruly curls of your own wild head that will happily bend to receive that crown of dandelions and in doing so you will feel no shame or embarrassment. Yellow was always your color.
The ones meant for you will come close to your side, you will not even need to call their names or sing them, the way you always do in the car when you think they aren’t listening or caring as much as you do. They will come close to you, the way your heart always felt close to them and you will accept your togetherness in whatever form is best for lovers, friends, family of the sort that feel as familiar and mysterious to you as the bright night sky. You will have an easy companionship, in the quiet spaces, and no one will say one word about that wrecking ball, they knew all along, your blueprints always looked more like storybooks, you were always meant for more unwieldy forms of creation.
So stand back, let it all go.
Don’t be afraid.
You cannot lose anything that was always meant to be yours.
You cannot have something when the only person who ever wanted it was you.
A new world is waiting underneath all that rubble and when you see the land underneath, you won’t regret being brave and you will know it wasn’t foolish after all, to let yourself be seen for who you really are.