I'm Missing

I miss you. I missed you before I knew you. I missed you when i met you. I miss you when I'm with you and when I'm not. I miss the past you weren't in and the present you are in. I miss the future with you. I miss you much I like I miss the children I haven't given birth to, the memories I haven't made and the things I haven't felt. I miss you like the things I don't know, but that affect me very much simply because i don't know them. I miss you like something that was meant to be, but is not and may never be. It leaves a hole where no one but my perception can feel the emptiness. I don't care if this sounds irrational. I don't care if it doesn't make sense to anyone but me. I am glad I have this ability. Its deep and rich and it creates spaces to be filled by things that exist because of the grief. It doesn't have to be rational to be important. It doesn't have to be understood by human minds to be real. It is mine to have and to hold for as long as I choose. It is mine to explore, love and use. It is a secret between me and me and the One who made me and understands what no one else ever will. I can't say it feels good, but neither does the burn I feel in my muscles when i push them to a new level. Over time my mind can associate pain as a good thing for what it produces and who it allows me to be. I will carry this cross and not just endure, but gratefully praise The Father for the weight of it, the splinters, the awkwardness and the sadness. I miss you because you are more than I can understand and yet you stand in front of me as though you are finite. You are not. You are housed in finitity, but you contain traces of eternity right now that shed light on dark places inside me. My unaccustomed eyes shut tight as i try to unbelieve what has just been proven. It hurts. It hurts that you exist. I want you to go away as soon as possible so I can stop missing you. There is closure in definiteness. There is no relief in uncertainty unless I enjoy it as i would a pleasant surprise, but I don't. It aches. I fear the ache, I remember the ache and I project the ache. I cannot escape it unless I create definitity. I keep trying unsuccessfully. Please go away. I don't seem to have what it takes to walk away. I'll scream and curse your back as you go. Then I'll weep with remorse and beat myself to a bloody pulp. But once that passes I will be stronger, more independent and less likely to drag out this kind of hopeless hope again quite like this time. I always end up respecting the ones who give me space. Space is different then shutting the heart off and abandoning. It has similar looking colors, but it is nothing the same. It is the quiet power that is compelling beyond the most eloquent words. It is the most amazing withness possible. Knowing I am loved from an adult distance, but feeling held like a sleeping child.

2Bkind

HA! I just almost berated myself for forgetting something...until I remembered that i didn't forget. Yes, that IS possible and it ISN'T improper English, or poorly worded. I was asked to mail some letters. I remembered that I had taken them with me on an errand, but i temporarily forgot that I actually mailed them. During the temporary fail i was disheartened because the timing of the letter would affect several people. I was just about to give myself a tongue lashing when i remembered photographically/cinematographley that i had already completed the task and there was no need to feel or speak negatively about myself. I wonder how many times I do this with life issues more unseen and intangible than mail? I suspect quite a lot. It's sad. It's unnecessary. It isn't helpful and it doesn't just affect me. Every time I am cruel or impatient with myself the energy in my body changes color. I breath and speak that color out and it affects others around me. It would be kind of me toward others to be kinder to myself. Even if i had forgotten to mail those letters, if I can be kind to me, how much more will i also extend grace and patience to others who are imperfect? Something to think about. Something to celebrate...the right to be kind to myself ...permission to be kind to myself ...the responsibility to be kind to myself ...the choice to be kind to myself and others...

bots n gods

I'm so flipping amused by something so mundane and techy that I'm not going to write about the deep subject-matter I had planned, just to give space and energy to this amusement. Upon posting a comment on a friends blog i was asked to prove i am not a robot by entering funny looking squiggly letters. I did so, but my thoughts wanted to prove more complexly how I know I am not a robot. Short answer: I FEEL! Medium answer: I was not created by humans. Longer explanation: I have wished more than several million times to be a puppet, an animal and even a robot just to escape the burden of making choices. yes, for me, choice is a burden. Raised to believe I would be punished mercilessly for my choices if they in fact were wrong or mistaken, I was tortured by inescapable fear of a god that manipulated people to love him by threatening them with not just demise, but endless and ongoing, unrelenting suffering of the most hanous kind should they not do his will and achieve perfection before death. I may not have been created by humans, but this god was and I was tortured by him. I no longer believe he is god at all. I am not completely free, but i'm on my way. I am closer than ever before and though it hurts like hell, it sends me to heaven when the healing seals the Truth in. If I were a robot i would not suffer as i do. If I were a puppet i wouldn't be held responsible for my choices, because in fact I would not have choice. Choice is what it is because it must bear responsibility for the freedom that makes it. I have always felt too weak to bear the responsibility, the consequences and the burdens of choice. Even the act of choosing seems to be endlessly conflicting for my psyche. The fear of choosing wrong or choosing something I may not be strong enough to see through to the end feels intolerable. If my choices affect others negatively i am even more disturbed, even enraged toward myself. I'd rather not exits than affect others negatively. Of course this is not rational or at all human....hmmmm....not human i say?! Am I then, a robot? No. BUT, I am have been trying to not suffer and not take responsibility as if I am a robot. No one would be able to detect it from interacting with me because most people notice right away how hard i am on myself, how I try too hard at everything and beat myself up when I fail. They see easily that I blame myself for things that are not my fault and would rather forgive than not. Seeming contradictory? Yes, it seems so. I live like a human, but I do not accept that it is true...not really, otherwise why would I strive for a perfection that is not designed for me to have. Robots, in fact, are not perfect. They are created by men and since man is fallible, so are these bots. I guess this person i can't stand not to be is also created by man...created by me. It is as much a falsity as the god i was tortured by and the the bot i thought it would be easier to be. I am not a robot. I don't want to be one either. What I want is to be free and for that freedom to be rght and good and enjoyable.