Stripped

Gutted

Taken to the core

And left to wrap myself up again

 

Where is my blanket

My bandages

My threads

Where do I lay my head and reweave my skin?

 

It’s been taken again

 

This past year has been an active stripping of my-self and what I know. I don’t want to give up what I do, nor how I do it. Instead I want to expand my practice. I want to blossom, strengthen and mature further, but that feeling of no confidence is there and it worries me.

When I lived in Santa Fe always I would run into Susan York when in the thick of this state. Susan would ask how I am and I would say something like, in the soup, in the mud, not sure where I am headed or how. Always Susan would respond that that is the best place to be – that really awkward spot where you don’t know. She would say to sit in it, relish it and that these moments will be the ones that will feed me in the future. They will show me the way forward.

So, here I am again. In the mud. Ever so mortal. Thinking about what my body tries to do, what my mind forces it to do, what my heart wants to do and with all my dreams unsaid, or un-sketched, just unformed lingering there, right beyond my reach. I know I am not alone in this mud. There are others who are just as uncertain as I am. And so many people with so much less, with so many more concerns. But this is where I am at and I have to ask myself what will I chose next?

How do I combine what is on the edges of my dreams, thoughts, concerns and fingers – gather them together and usher in a new beginning? Let’s do this, once more, another time - I’ll take the bet.