2018 shattered illusions. 2019 is about seeing without the veils, about moving from 3D to 5D thinking. As the midnight hour neared, they asked me what I wanted for the New Year. I had no answer. What I had wanted more than anything in 2018 did not come to pass. They say the sun always rises in the morning, but he did not rise and she did not go free. And there was India. And, I loved what was not mine. I loved anyway knowing love is boundless; only a fool thinks it can be contained.
Someone I have truly loved across lifetimes has been lying in a coma since the beginning of October. I thought my silence was honoring him. I kept it hoping I would wake up one day from the nightmare. I wanted to dream him back to consciousness and reverse time. He was my first spiritual equal, the catalyst for my awakening and evolution. I stepped off a ledge with him once, and life has never been the same. In many ways we have been suspended in time, in that moment. Until now. This time he jumped again, without me, and nothing I can do will take us back to where we started or where he left off. I bore my pain in silence, wore my helplessness with a smile and channeled my suffering into meditations for his recovery. I just wanted him to wake up and breathe, to smile, to laugh, to tell me I am everything and how proud he is of me. We always had that, even when fate continued to keep us separated in this lifetime in painful ways. Maybe whatever realm he’s playing in is happier, where struggle is not the norm and sadness is impossible. Maybe love is most powerful when two polarities remain what they are, where they are, as they are. The lessons around letting go and non-attachment have been cathartic and maybe that’s it. I feel like I have learned them a million times over, and yet they continue. What am I to further understand?
I spent the past year working on Cyntoia Brown’s case, trying to explain the unexplainable and excuse her moment of madness. I woke up every other day checking online to see if progress had been made, hoping the courts would make right the wrongs done her, to make her life as valuable as the life they punished her for taking. Because it is. The governor of Tennessee had until the end of 2018 to set her free and return a life that was stolen from her before it began. He did not choose to see her light and potential for better. She will remain encaged. I know her and I know her well. She was me. She is me. She killed her trauma while I let mine linger and eat me until I was empty. And then I was no more. I decided to live in spite of. I was powerful and brave and breaking barriers and making a difference. I thought so anyway. Today my heart is shattered trying to find the motivation to finish a thesis centering her case, looking at how trauma gets criminalized, knowing at the end of the day it did not make a difference, not this year, when it could have…when it should have.
For the love of…India ignited my heart and cast out its flame. She restored me and exhausted me. She reminded me of ancient wisdoms and hidden secrets, both within and without. She gave me everything and left me heart in hand. She excited me, had me thirst for more, only to leave my mouth dry. She held me and left me reaching. She initiated journeys untold and I walked miles to be with her. I daydreamed of her and sang her night songs. I loved her and lost her, only to be found. She sent me to higher realms as I faced the ground, dirt in hands. I dissolved in her skies as her mountains sketched the outline of my body. I stood in the rain and felt the sun. I puked out my heart and stained her earth with the salt of my emotions. Her passion crashed into me and broke my walls as the sky unleashed its storms. She fell to her knees and kissed my forehead. She held my hand and shoved me to the ground. Every time I leave her, I leave me. But I learned and it was hard. It was wild and magical and disastrous, poetically expressed from a beautiful reckoning with the devil. It hurt. I bled. I cried. I felt soul deep pain but my wounds are faint now. I am disillusioned to the fantastical meanderings of my mind. Yes it was always just my mind. Or maybe it was my heart. Both thrill to rest on the breast of the untamed. I tasted life because of India, real beautiful messy paradoxical life.
Although 2018 cast a certain darkness over my life and the lives of many, light found its way in. I would not have survived the past several months without people who showed up and reminded me regardless of how hard the hit, love is always close by to soothe us. 2018 left me totally unhinged, as I am sure was all part of the plan. A certain few held me up in ways I can’t begin to put to words. Last year was about the past resurfacing, forcing us to heal old wounds and release lifetimes of patterns that failed to served us. It held up a mirror and asked us what the fuck we were doing. It was aggressive and forceful and necessary. It said–No more. No more hiding and making ourselves small, or fitting into boxes when we are stars. On the other hand, I also did some seriously epic shit in 2018 and made lifelong friends/connections along the journey. Those people and moments I am infinitely grateful for.
As we begin a new cycle I hold those still struggling in the light. If I could breathe for you I would share my lungs. If I could tear down the prison walls that hold you and so many others, I would demolish them. I cannot feel fully alive and free while there are others bound by forces beyond their control. If I could remove the darkness that binds us all, well—I suppose I wouldn’t because none of us could recognize the light without it. Going into this new cycle all I can say is hang on. Hang in there. Change is coming, whatever it is or could be— it will be. Acceptance is my mantra for 2019. Whatever comes.