A Doorway

Unexpected change shoves you through an unknown doorway and seals the edges forever shut.
I spent my first months living close to that doorway, scratching my nails until they bled, trying to get back through. Begging to return home to myself, wondering what hellish monster pushed me that day.

And the world continued to spin. How dare it? How could life dance around me, so carelessly and free. How could normality just play out over and over whilst I had been shoved into another realm?

Most days I thought that I might be dead. My body shuddered. I sometimes crept quietly in the hall, eavesdropping to see if I could hear any mention of my passing.
You get flung between two worlds you see, somewhere between life and death. A horror movie reality.

Now I am fully alive again. But I can still see that sealed door in my mind. I tiptoe through 17 months of hallways, my hands tracing the walls to see if I can feel the edges.

I wonder what did the landscape of my mind looked like before this? But it has slipped too far away now.
I can’t see my door. I live here now. I’m new.

I wake up and my mind quickly flicks through the pages, to grab the answer to ‘Where am I? How did I get here?’ The dread of uncertainty is a lake I am learning to swim in. To get comfortable in knowing nothing.

I still haven’t quite worked out how to fully say goodbye to myself.
To set her free, to allow myself to confidently begin again. I miss myself too much. I miss the innocence of faith.

But I see the gifts of transformation, they are here, sneaking up on me.
As much as I sometimes still wish I could un see what I’ve seen, or un think what I’ve thought – I don’t really want to un know what I know.

Am I now tainted but wise?

Integration of self happens via letting things be. Allowing it all to have happened.
I whisper to myself, you’ve got to learn to let go, just let go, just let it be.

If acceptance were a sport, i’m getting stronger at it, I’m in training, but I don’t want to make the team.

Life vies for my attention. She sends invitations in amusing forms.
There are always birds.
She wants me to remember the magic that I am built from.

Would you like to dance? She says.

I fumble in my pockets.
It occurs to me that perhaps I’m just standing in new hallway.

And maybe I have a key.

April 26, 2017

New Print Series

August 1, 2017