The rapture of another day. I woke up in love with me. This romance with myself has been such a stormy love affair. Good thing you’re there to keep me guessing. How will I love myself better today? Sometimes sharp and sometimes soft the love is all pervading. The kisses are everywhere and I feel the touch of summers hand upon my heart. If only I could love you more, and it’s me. Can’t you see? The hurt isn’t anywhere but in here. They can’t do anything on the outside if we aren’t already doing it on the inside. And no one can hold us back from ourselves. This romance with me pervades my life. How will I love my love -which is me? If you don’t know, just look at the world around you and it’s clear. My love, it’s all in here.
I’ve been in this hospital 10 days and I’m leaving today. It’s been a rough road and I let it enlighten me just a little bit more on what this all is-and what I’m doing- and why is this happening. I surrendered. I became one. I let it all seep in and I prayed day and night- and so many people love me -and I pulled through minus the knife.
The doctors said they were baffled by the X-rays, cat scans, and lab work and they told me they all gathered around the images and couldn’t match the images with the person because I was too healthy and alive to look like this and I should be in more agony. Fortunate for me these are actually good people here and let me work it out and they feel it was a mystery and a miracle and all they do is smile at me with twinkling eyes. I know they are the medicine Buddha. I know my nurse was Tara. Like, I know it’s true- and they answered my prayers.
The last hospital visit when I had surgery 2 years ago was the same. The doctor was very perplexed and disoriented and really didn’t know how to put it together. Because in truth, I’ve never actually been technically sick in the hospital. Just physical malfunctioning or something strange like that. In really weird and dramatic ways.
I have been made aware that it’s my body’s reaction to my encounters- and it’s a purging of astral forces- and when you put that perfectly together with me always running at full speed -and some stars influencing the turnout- I end up in the hospital to work out all the karmic sludge that I’ve collected. So I suppose it’s my destiny to learn in this way-and to die and be born again over and over.
I really didn’t know if I’d make it this time, it was so bad and so extreme. But I did make it – and I’m telling you this because throughout it all, it was my mind that I controlled, not my body. When I felt I was going to mentally just snap that second night when this woman shared a room with me and moaned and groaned at full volume all through the night (and only 2 feet from my bed) I thought I wouldn’t be able to mentally endure- so I grew stronger to survive. I found a way to not defend myself from her and I adapted and made peace with the reason I was next to her in the first place.
Is any of this real? Yes kind of. But no, not really.
Our mind makes it so. Our hearts make it happen.
And so it’s a romance and we’re always flirting with creation and destruction. I love you today because you’re pretty and good and I hate you tomorrow because your ugly and bad. That’s no way to find your heart. What I’m trying to tell you is that it’s so easy to stop hurting if you could just see that nobody is doing anything to you that you aren’t already doing to yourself.
We set these behaviors in motion and it’s a ride to the finish line. If you allow someone to abuse you, you must feel that you are worthy of it. There is a fine line between being compassionate and codependent. And if you’re wondering about how to tell the difference- Compassion makes both people better and stronger- codependency doesn’t. And we’re talking about genuine romance that starts right here in our own very hands.
The hardest thing it seems to do is just to actually love you as you stand- with no embellishments and no mirrors, no criteria and no proof of accomplishment. With no successful performance or output.
Just love for the sake of love because it’s a big pool and we’re in it and it’s really just all there is.
Open up and swim. Open up and float.
But don’t just drown imagining you aren’t even in the water. Of course you’re submerged in love but until you accept the invitation and start loving yourself with a vengeance, it won’t happen here, it won’t reach any others and no one will ever come to you and say, “I really love you” because it’s always going to be-you hand in hand. You picking up you. You hugging you. You kissing you. You making love to you in the deepest way known.
Self acceptance. I love you for better or for worse just the way that you are. Take the wedding vow with yourself and be with you for once.
It’s the heart calling you home from the deep.
It’s been so long and we’re all so tired of pretending.
I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root:
It is what you fear.
I do not fear it: I have been there.
Is it the sea you hear in me,
Or the voice of nothing, that was your madness?
Love is a shadow.
How you lie and cry after it
Listen: these are its hooves: it has gone off, like a horse.
All night I shall gallop thus, impetuously,
Till your head is a stone, your pillow a little turf,
Or shall I bring you the sound of poisons?
This is rain now, this big hush.
And this is the fruit of it: tin-white, like arsenic.
I have suffered the atrocity of sunsets.
Scorched to the root
My red filaments burn and stand, a hand of wires.
Now I break up in pieces that fly about like clubs.
A wind of such violence
Will tolerate no bystanding: I must shriek.
The moon, also, is merciless: she would drag me
Cruelly, being barren.
Her radiance scathes me. Or perhaps I have caught her.
I let her go. I let her go
Diminished and flat, as after radical surgery.
How your bad dreams possess and endow me.
I am inhabited by a cry.
Nightly it flaps out
Looking, with its hooks, for something to love.
I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.
Clouds pass and disperse.
Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables?
Is it for such I agitate my heart?
I am incapable of more knowledge.
What is this, this face
So murderous in its strangle of branches?——
Its snaky acids hiss.
It petrifies the will. These are the isolate, slow faults
That kill, that kill, that kill.
ELM -POEM BY SYLVIA PLATH
Don’t kill the pain.