Return to the Grey, Foggy Crystal

ഇടനാടൻ ചെങ്കൽക്കുന്നുകളിൽ കാണപ്പെടുന്ന ശലഭം. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have been so frustrated and angry with myself.  I have fallen back into my coccoon.  That grey, foggy state of stagnancy that shrouds me in my boxed-in rut.  Today as I was lamenting in my brain this holding pattern in which I seem to find myself once again, I made my mental list of maladies.  I seem to be stuck at my current weight.  For about a month now I have hardly moved.  The needle on the scale just sits there on that same number that gave me glee last month but now makes me want to take an axe to my scale.  I have not written since moving.  Well, some half-finished stuff in my notebooks and journals, but nothing online, nothing submitted, nothing to give me a sense of accomplishment.  I have not finished unpacking–yes, the catalyst of my entire current catatonic state of limbo was when, upon moving here together, my brother and I mutually agreed we would be better off if we each had our own residence.  And since you cannot divorce a sibling, at least not in this country, it is better to get homes as close as possible to each other.   So, once more, as I have for the last four years, I live in a cardboard universe.  To say that I have come to despise cardboard boxes does not do justice to the intensity of my emotions.  I want a home!  My home, where all of my favorite things adorn it and have their honored places.  Dreams of a magnificent abode or a unique living arrangement like my life-long fantasy of living on a boat, have given way to a desperate desire to have just about any type of shack, as long as it is mine for the next several years and I don’t have to move.  So, my wheels have ground to a halt; paralysis has set in.  And I want to kick myself in the pants for allowing myself to crawl into this space of pergatory.

But I am making my escape plans even while I sit and knit myself into my own web.  I plot to borrow a computer or use the library’s equipment just to get my writing out there where I need it to be.  And I know that my weight will begin its downward decent again when I am able to increase my activity.  I need some nerves burned in my back again due to an old injury that has deteriorated my lower spine and now affected part of my spine near my neck also.  I have made my appointments but must wait for the insurance bureaucracy to churn its red tape.  Which brings me back to my land of cardboard.  Maybe I can make myself do one or two boxes a day.  It is a start, any way.  I just need to start pecking away at it like a chick pecking its way out of its shell.  I can do this.  I know I can.  It is not like before where it took me forever to find the way out of my rut, to get all my spokes balanced so my wheel rolls forward evenly.  I know what I am doing this time and I know what is on the outside of my chrysallis.  Suddenly, it dawns on me that I have been too hard on myself.  It is ok to be where I am.  Sometimes I will need to go into stasis until I regain my balance.  When changes come so quickly that I cannot steady myself it is best to crawl into a safe place until my rapid growth abates.  I finally recognize that it is during these periods of emotional vertigo that I have the opportunity for the greatest personal growth.

And that is what I am going through once again.  Just like my personal symbol, the butterfly, that I identify with so very much, I must create a safe space for my transitions.  Time and again I will probably need to retreat to my grey, foggy crystal for protection while I find my way.  It is natural.  I do not need to fret over it.  I have seen the outcome before.  I will emerge yet more beautiful, more skilled than ever before.  An amazing butterfly, complex and balanced as I wing my way from flower to flower, drinking my fill of the sweetest life can offer.

The Deep Blue Crystal Waters

What a funk I am in today!  Christmasjust doesn’t seem to go according to my plans any more.  I plan a trip; it falls through.  We are going caroling; someone gets sick.  I decide what gifts to make; I can’t get the right ingredients or items I need.  I make my lists, check them twice; I throw them in the trash because my money didn’t work out.  I feel the angry-worried-exhausted-stressed-haunted-grieved-jealous-pitiful-hide-under-the-covers Christmas blues!  I can’t find that quiet inner chamber within myself.  There is way too much internal noise.  My body bears the brunt with pain exploding, making me more irritable.  I need help!

Image by Jeremy Bronson via Flickr

But I don’t feel like making the effort.  Maybe I don’t feel like I am worth the effort today.  But God has infinite, abundant grace and He puts me in a position where I feel compelled to go the beach for others’ sake.  I don’t want to go and yet it is just where I need to be.  Thank you, God, for my family, who make me strong when I am weak.  And thank you for the divinity I experience by your deep blue crystal waters.  I force myself up, drawn against my will, rolling up my pant legs, shucking off my shoes.  And I am pulled into the biting cold surf.  And I walk alone down the isolated shore lost in  horizon,  sea,  blue,  green, time, and primitive, raw life-force.  It is overcast.  Stormy waves crash the land, beating in a tempest to match my inner turmoil.

I love the ocean on a day like today. Walking in the chill water in my bare feet as the dark, moody waters roll over my legs, pushing me, washing it’s primordial secrets against me, connecting me to the dawn of time. I think about all the places the water touching me may have been: Crashing against the Ivory Coast of Africa while slaves were forced to these very shores, freezing and thawing in the desolate frozen places where the Titanic sank, racing down a sultry South American river giving a life-source to ancient peoples, or evaporated into the heavens, falling in gentle rains or tumultuous, thundering downpours back again upon the earth. I am connected to the universe and eternity in this swelling, swirling sea. I am minute, a speck; I am as broad as the sky. And suddenly the worst of my problems seem to dissolve into the vastness of forever. Peace outside of time envelops me and I transcend this existence. Oh, the sea! And I walk along its shore and life is good.

Image by jackfraser via Flickr

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