A Rigorous Day In Saint Training

It’s a rigorous day over here in Saint training.  I really wanted to use the f word in that sentence.  An f-ing rigorous day (don’t think of a pink elephant…).  But lemme see… how ‘bout a DANGEROUSLY rigorous day.  Or a poisonously rigorous day.  Or this day slithered across the hardwood floor of my all too familiar bedroom, glaring at me like a hooded cobra snake, venomous and unpredictable.  This is the first time in SEVEN years that I have been without the support of a devoted boyfriend.  Support?  Yeah, like emotional support.  I know I touched on this subject yesterday… but I am utterly broken open and lost in hell today.  I didn’t think I was going to write because I was feeling ashamed of and repulsed by myself.  And that’s not very Saintly.  Or is it?

Besides, today is different from yesterday, because Mykael is actually, physically around… yet we are continents apart… which makes the reality of our separation so much more painful.  To be near one who was once my refuge from the storm… and suddenly, I am in the midst of a downpour and he stands there preoccupied by a million shades of a hidden world, watching my bones get soaked and chilled by torrential gusts of inner turmoil and reckless need.

Today was one of those tigress listlessly pacing her teensy cage days.  I lost my will somewhere in the greasy folds of all this transformative soul discomfort.  God did I just want to get pleasantly drunk or stoned.  Or at least go out into the world and frivolously spend money on the comforting distractions of food and ambiance.  But I’ve done that enough.  All of it.  And today was designed specifically by the All Pervading Maliciousness… oh, that felt like a horrible thing to write… sorry God, it’s just that my heart stings so… this alchemy is so HOT, I can barely stand it.  But that’s alchemy for ya.  Do you even have any idea what I’m talking about?  I wonder… I wonder if I’m just an anomaly to make myself sit here and feel my way through such an uncomfortable experience.  Most “normal” people would just pick up a book and have a read or call up a friend and get together for a walk or dinner.  Or maybe fill the hole by shopping.  I hear that’s a popular one for women.  Or eating… I used to do that.  Doesn’t feel so great.  Neither does drinking margaritas.  Mykael and I used to do that like three times a week, back in the glory days.  I would pick him up from work and we’d go to our favorite restaurant, Fonda.  Usually we’d get in a fight on the way (another good distraction tactic) (am I a feeling junkie?) and then get to the restaurant and order our usual~ margaritas, the best chips in the world~ long, thick, salty *CRUNCHY* strips that make me feel orgasmic just in the telling, guacamole, refried black beans and broccoli.  What a hit-parade of oral sensations!  All played to the smeary tune of mild inebriation.  But was that enough?  No… then it was time to slur and shuffle home to smoke some pot and knock boots.  God I love smoking pot and having sex… Sigh… someday… maybe…

Come to think of it, this frustrated, pacing tigress feeling is not such a new innovation.  Come to think of it, she is an old friend.  But suddenly I refuse to medicate her.  I will let her get so intolerant and fierce that she will find a way out of her diminutive cage no matter WHAT it takes.  There may be bloodshed, friends.  I am trying to listen to this listlessness.  Instead of running from it.  There is nowhere to run.  I can’t even pretend to be interested in DOING anything to tune it out.  All I am moved to do is sit amidst the flames and watch myself disintegrate.  Trust me, it burns.  But there comes a time in the life of every tigress clad in fleshy disguise… when she is destined to break free.  My number must’ve come up because I see no other option.  I want nothing of this world of illusion.

Or do I?  I ached all day in my bed, dreaming of being taken out on the town.  Dreaming dreams of heavily lashed eyelids, swishing like steaming, enchanted forests as I sophisticatedly sip intoxicating elixir, the blood of elated grapes, raped and sequestered to dark, woody barrels and then resurrected solely for these lusty moments of seduction and blind consumption.  Sitting across the table from a date who makes me burn with curiosity and yearning.  I probe this exquisite face of the mystery, wishing I could wrap myself around it’s boundlessness in such a way that I may taste satiation, however brief.  I dreamed of being tossed and twirled about a heaving, breathing dance floor, the sweet music unapologetically devouring my mind, simmering me down to the most essential ingredient of existence~ pure bliss in motion.

Duality.  Sigh.  How will I EVER find my way out of this maze?  My bedroom has once again become my cocoon.  But soon, I will burst forth with new, striking wings.  They will be bent and folded clumsily and I will wonder if I actually know how to fly.  Until I find myself soaring free at the whim of some unseen, loving current, over the thrashing turquoise body of the sea.  And in that liberated instant, I will remember something that I forgot I have Always known.

But in the mean time… I sobbed in bed today, squeezed by the binding pain of this meticulous, ordained transformation.  I wiped clear snot on my pale blue sheet.  The prism hanging in my window was indifferent to this display of human despair and spat gratuitous rainbows all about my prison walls.  My consciousness took refuge in the intricate spray of vibrant spectral shades. I studied them until we merged.  I was taken by the fluid, graceful transitions from one color to the next.  I took the electrified colors into me like food, letting them fortify my aching mind.  And the bouquet of dahlias on my nightstand… We have a new level of intimacy now.  My vision desperately probed their mandalic folds.  I found a sacred piece of myself in the deep, weighty shade of magenta, so saturated, it was nearly devoured by a vibrant darkness.

So you see… it’s been a rigorous day in Saint training.

Amen.

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2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. souldipper
    Aug 06, 2010 @ 04:50:50

    You are so wise, Athena Grace. Through all of this pain, you are remembering that there are no short cuts to being true to yourself and for being who you are. Fillers only short-circuit the process and short change the soul. You may feel weak, but there’s an alchemy going on that is going to be dazzling. I predict it will mean a new freedom and a new brand of joy.

    I love you very deeply. It’s hard for me to not whip right down there and rock you to peace!
    – Amy

    Reply

  2. Darrell
    Aug 08, 2010 @ 08:35:00

    Athena,

    You are perhaps the most courageous person I have ever known. You express in crystal clear thoughts to others what most people would never admit to themselves. I have paced my cage in the same way, but I have never opened myself and let so much light inside.

    When I was in school, I studied drama, and my nemesis was improvisation. Five minutes before the end of class my accomplished teacher would look around and invariably settle on me. “Quick! You’re at a party, and the woman of your dreams has just walked up to you. You have a navel orange in your hand and a quarter in your pocket. The city bus is your ride home… GO!”

    Every step toward the stage was like peeling off my skin and molting into a more exposed form than the step before. By the time I stood in front of the class on the stage, I was beyond exposed, beyond naked. I was cracked open and spilling between the splinters in the hardwood. I’d close my eyes, and realize I was as empty on the inside as I was naked on the outside.

    It was at that moment that Divine inspiration would fill the vacuum, my molting would become a metamorphosis, and a brilliant vignette would ensue. No contortion of the ego would allow me to believe that it was my own creation alone, in fact, it could only happen when I had let go of myself.

    What I truly admire about you, Athena, is that you dance in this space every day. You live your truth and let yourself stand empty and unmasked–until miracles happen. How profound and beautiful. Many blessings.

    Love to you,
    Darrell

    Reply

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