Be married with those who truly see you. The anatomy of a lifetime includes all sorts of interesting elements. You have items such as your ligaments of learning, then those orgasmic organs you purely dare not go without, and a jumble of joints of juncture that make your livelihood move along marvelously if you’re making sure they stay limber. There are gobs of humans, animals, or activities with which we can choose from to share our hours. So, it’s quite queer that we’re known for getting in ruts rotating some we egregiously don’t need. You know the ones: whom you fight with incessantly, that always bite, or end up ignoring any pledge to return your commitment anywhere close to a parallel plane of respect. Homemade love begins when we embody receiving everyone as we are sincerely. All we’re ever looking for is the freedom of being.
A single piece of black construction paper was laid on the floor in front of where I was socially-distance seated on the carpet gathered with family in front of the holiday tree on unpacking-Santa eve 2020. I’d been invited to share the tradition of opening one present each for Christmas eve. Our little ohana had tasked one another with hand-crafted gifts this year. My teenage cousin Max hadn’t made it to the wrapping phase with mine. Therefore, it was suggested he fork over that one to save that effort. My eco-greenie brain was even more delighted to forgo the waste of dead trees. Although, I sat puzzled the first instant. But, wisdom took over as I flipped the page downside up. What stared back at me was me! He’d used his artistic expertise, plus fandom of anime and avatars to recreate my likeness in thematic caricature style beauty. Ruptures of ecstatic astonished speechless bliss began to well as I tried to form enough words of praise.
To view the vibrancy of my uniqueness in this dazzling array of colored markers and brushstrokes was a majestic mirror. It was a touching intensity like having each of your favorite celebrations all at once; especially my birthday. I remember silently sitting alone with the portrait for a long while afterward. I couldn’t put it down. I felt her aliveness. I recognized the adventures in her resonance. Her charm lilts from her eyes which exude her sorrow and satisfaction all the same. She does wear sparkly hues as airs. She is a knockout in her own right. Max had cleverly filtered his idea of me matched by combing through my social media photos. Wholly being seen can be captured on the sidelines or could develop over decades. The difference in whether we’re ever noticed at all or not bears the anarchy of a body’s analysis. Equal to the measure of worry we’ve allotted seeping internally. You see, our true colors are solely intended for a special set of people.
We enter contracts of convenience over-easy a lot of the time. Probing where we belong requires using all of your strong muscles, of which I don’t merely mean the bulk that you’ve carved as your arms or calves or multi-pack mid-section. I’m referring to the kind of strength of Jedi mind tricks. Where you’re keenly aware of when to walk away. The minute I realized maturity is a term of adult-making was when I came home to innocence. That chaste landscape replete with an eternity of how alright we are to arrest the chaos-chasers inside of us. Those greedy giants that frighten relaxation with their beastly bellows. The opposite angle of ripeness. Where we cut ourselves break after loathsome break. Until we’re sighted whole (again) by wear to tear of beaten down from brokenness. Shed everyone and everything that gives you the wiggles. Forge only whence your GPS is your heartbeat.
May those fall far from your graces who gunk up your path. I’m tired of flunking to live every moment thriving in reliable love with myself. Where the romance I crave with another is actually the daily relationship of getting to wake up to a brand new morning pickled with those in mutual adoration, heavily peppered by nurture of self, jammed with juicy creative contributions of my choosing, spiced by inspiring stories supporting with others, and all hung across nature’s couture canvases. They forget to remind us that the audience we seek is our own happiness. That we ought not to be pleasing the plenty. Why figuring out what we wish to do now, tonight, tomorrow, or between is insulated with our interior. How those with understated stink are the tribe to let stick. Surrounding yourself in the lasting language of sophisticated sweet legacy is possible. How agilely we may wield our days!
You are the light you’re meant to follow. (Reread that slooooooowly… rolling it around the tongue a few times to allow it sink in completely.)