On being whole and complete
I woke up today.I rolled out of bed, hair a mess, eyes puffy, age in my face. I hadn't even opened my eyes when I remembered I'd forgotten. I hadn't. I'd failed. I fog my eyes when I look in the mirror. I don't want to see. Too thin. Too pale. Worn. Tired. Used up.
I want to be huggable.
It's still dark out. I have to get up and go and appease and accommodate. So someone will want me. So someone will keep me.
Time starts moving quickly. I'm confused. I'm disorganized. I'm lazy. I'm unfit. I'm powerless. I'm a waste. I'll never be something. Forget about enough.
I stop. I open my eyes and force myself to look.
Gentle, peaceful, open hearted. Big dreams. Such a capacity to feel. This woman, all love.
I stare. I listen. I hear wanting to heal. I hear hurt. I hear a small broken cry. I hear why.
I ask that voice to speak up. I ask her to tell me what she wants. What I see gets softer. What I see is so easy to look at. What I see understands. She's creative. She's excited. She loves. She wears no armor.
She's speaking clearly now. Her voice is strong. Her voice is proud. Her voice is heard. She is seen. She is accepted.
The eyes that were shut when the didn't and can't flowed in the darkness Now, open to see. The morning light grows. She feels a desire. She makes a plan. She is patient, encouraging, proud, and acknowledging - who she is and who she is not. It's all her opinion anyway. She thanks it for sharing.
She's a presence and a being. She's a heart and a soul. She's an expression of perfection simply because she is.
She is whole and complete. Today. Right now. In this moment. She is love.