Ok. I am not sure I have ever run into this particular problem before.
I am too at peace to write about murder.
Scratches head.
At the end of the most violent time in my life, I used to sit on the edge of my best friend’s torn up, twin sized bed, with his sheet half off the mattress, just listening to him play guitar.
There was peace, joy, harmony, and intimacy in those moments. It was there that I first found that there are others like me- those who speak without talking. Believe it or not, with being a writer.
He knew what I had been through. Not the particulars. He knew some, because he had been through similar. Not all. And he made sure to tell me that. That there were experiences that he would never understand. He couldn’t.
In those moments, something deep inside me was touched. A light that I have carried and sheltered, no matter where I have been, no matter what has been happening, no matter how depressed or bitter I have become. That nameless place has always been and I feel resonance when that light comes to join me in the world.
The love of my life has been gone for a long time. He is another that touched that light. Aidrian brought that light to my surface and set my world on fire. Since his passing, there have been brief moments of this feeling, but none have lasted longer than a day. Until about four years ago.
It has been a very painful re-awakening. That is what I learned from Aidrian, all those years ago. That love is painful. To be aware of the world. To feel. It is not, however, anything to be afraid of. It is to be embraced and cherished.
Very recently, due to encountering someone so similar to my ex, I decided to spend the majority of my time in deep meditation. No, not medication. Meditation.
In doing so, I have found a sort of acceptance and comfort. This has outted different from other times when I have delved deep. I thought, at first, it would be the same: a simple refuge from pain and misery that would be waiting for when I was strong enough to pick it up again.
Instead, this time, I have found answers. The capacity to let go. A step beyond forgiveness or resignedness or closure. I know this feeling will fade. It should. Very few people can feel this all the time. A part, though, a part will always remain with me now, like those moments perched on my friend’s bed or listening to Aidrian sing me to sleep.
There is a point in meditation where you feel connected to all and feel healthy, green, glowing energy rushing through every pore, skin and soul. Some call this kundalini. It can come from a variety of sources. It has happened for me a time or two, over the years, and I have been drained by its flash of appearance and exhalation.
When it happened this time… again, I was not expecting it. It was not what I was searching for. In its wake, however, I feel the same peace I did when sitting on my friend’s bed. Not tired, like a well-used balloon. Peace. I have answers to doubts and questions that have sat inside me for nearly two decades. Not complete. Complete enough. Complete enough that my ex’s vicious words about my lacks are a distant memory and will stay that way. I have some of my old confidence back and not as ego. As that shelf over the black pit; as that silent voice that says “this is me.” This is me. This is me. This IS ME. I have no need to shrink or second guess. I have no need to make myself into a mouse when I know myself to be a lion, simply because another feels the need to tame, cut, slay, and defeat another in order to feel superior. I have no need to even voice those phrases. It is simply: This is ME.
I have been listening to Chris Klafford’s rendition of John Lennon’s Imagine, over and over, with other riffs of music that echo that light further into my current awareness, the ones that make my hair stand on end.
How can I possibly write about murder, death, mayhem, assault, starvation, and greed, when faced with the awesome power of peace and connectiveness?
I will enjoy this, for however long it lasts, not grateful because even that would destroy this delicious sense of harmony, but standing inside the fifth note of soul…