what we talk about when we talk about love

with a hat tipped to Ray Carver...

I received something in my inbox last week that gave me pause...A LOT of pause, and reflection, and yes, there were tears, but of the good kind, the "really? me?" kind. I was reminded, for the umpteenth time, why I love the sender of this missive so very much--she is brave, she is brilliant, she is so much of what I aspire to be but also so human, meaning I don't put her on some kind of "perfection" pedestal because she's not perfect, no one is, she's just a gift. To this world. To me.

I hope she doesn't mind that I am posting a portion of her affirmation prayer to me...frankly, I want these words to be in as many places as possible so I can access them whenever, whereever. I'm printing out this prayer and taking it with me on my vacation to Canada. I want to read it on the dock, in my sacred place, and I want to look out onto Stony Lake and all its beauty and let the words wash over me like a wake over rocks on the shoreline.

"When I asked you what you imagined when you visualized a thin M____in the world, you mentioned only negative thoughts. Let me suggest to you that inhabiting a healthy, athletic body (thin or otherwise) may be an opportunity for you to give yourself extraordinary gifts of self-love, and to pass that love to others around you. Welcoming in the change, rather than fearing it, will ease its transition into your life. And I have no doubt this is coming for you, and that it will be easier than you think.

Affirmative prayer encourages you to state things as they are, not to beg or ask for what you do not have. So I’m affirming your beauty and power below.

In this moment, it is so clear to me that the universe is filled with love, and that we are meant to be manifestations of that love. There is a way in which we take this love in, let it pass through us, and conduct it—like electricity—to others. This is the extraordinary gift of spirit, and is affirmation of our glorious ability to create the warm energy of love in our own lives and in the world around us. We are told by everyone that change has to be difficult, that we must strive, and work, and punish. We have been raised to believe in a turbulent, taskmaster God who wants our suffering and toil. How silly! Why not instead recognize that spirit is in our laughter, in our love, and in the core of our humanity—with all of its fears and ugliness? Why not realize that we are most worthy of love when we feel it least? Most importantly, why not realize that change can be easy? Nothing is too difficult for the ever expansive spirit that created us and the universe, and whom we create. Nothing is too difficult.

So, on this day, I affirm that it is with ease that my beautiful friend M______ accepts healing into her life and into her heart. I look in her face, at her body, at her heart, and I see only a joyful acceptance of the glorious changes that are being made happen within her. I see her affirming what it is that she wants from her life, and it enters. I see her imagining the body she wants, and that body appears. She is filled with quietude and peace. Most importantly, this all happens with incredible ease. There is no suffering. There is no struggle. There is only a release, a letting as M______ relaxes and lets emerge from that which is true spirit, beautiful and whole.

Someone once told me that he loved me most when I laid bare my frailty. “Your humanity is beautiful,” he suggested. “Your imperfections are gorgeous.” How delightful is it when we remember that what makes us extraordinary—the true marks of God—are those things that mark us as different, as beings who experience pain, shame, embarrassment. What a privilege to inhabit all of this humanity, and to live it fully.

I release this affirmation of M______ amazing spirit to the universe, and know that the divine in me sees the divine in her, always. There is no other truth.

And so it is."

No one has ever written anything like that to me. I am so touched by each and every word, and really in awe of the fact I inspired (is that the right word?) such moving and poignant expressions of love and acceptance. I am seen, and it is okay. Now that's one for the record books.

the day after

I was irresponsible yesterday, fueled by a despondency that I could not name.

I shouldn't allude to suicidal thoughts, even if I do have them. I will admit to a morbid fascination with the IDEA of ending it all, the ultimate control of that act, and I identify (often too much) with the weariness that accompanies one's need to exit, whether it's weariness brought on by chronic pain/illness (check) or consistent mental tumult (check) or loss...I "get" the urge. But it's not right of me to throw out things like gun buying when it's all in the moment and grounded in pain that will pass in and through me and out, like it does for so many of us, thank goodness. I do not live in a place of wanting to die. Rather, I live in a place that is sometimes so excruciatingly uncomfortable that I will do almost anything to change the feelings...and that, I think, is at the crux of so many of my struggles. Intolerance of pain, burdened as I've been with years and years of it, and the fear that I will never be free of that burden.

Last night, I went home and talked with S. I told her that the voices in my head were relentless...she asked me if they were my voice. I said no, I didn't think so. I recalled standing at the water cooler at work, tail end of the day, filling my water bottle...in my head was You Are So Gross and You are so fat you don't deserve to eat...things of that nature, said in a gravelly, loud, mean voice. It reminded me of Oscar the Grouch on acid. I shook my head, as if I could get the voice out of there, let it roll from my ear and onto the floor. I'd been crying for hours at that point, and was feeling, well, pretty crazy. When I got home, I kept opening the fridge and peering in, searching for something...I was so hungry, having eaten a banana, some tofu, and a spoonful of black bean salad all day...but still, I stood there paralyzed, saying out loud, finally, "I don't feel like I can eat anything at ALL." The voices had won.

I have a line in one of my poems "relentless slipped in unnoticed." That line keeps coming up for me. The relentlessness of my struggles threaten to drown out the good things I have, and there are many good things. I am often taken aback by the ferociousness of my inner critic and its ability to take me down a dark hole. Enjoying week, even month-long reprieves, I forget that voice until something triggers it again: yesterday, I think it was my mother. I don't know.

Last night, as she was tucking me in, S. said "let's get up in the morning and walk Daisy together." I thought it was a grand idea, though at the time I was so exhausted that I wondered if I would be able to drag my body out of bed at 7 a.m. I am happy to report that I DID get out of bed, and so did Sandy, and we enjoyed a lovely morning stroll with Miss Pickles. It was already getting hot when we left the house around 7:30. When we got home, we congratulated ourselves for getting our asses in gear and I think S. was especially proud, as she's pretty much a zombie in the morning, yet even with crazy bed head and no coffee, she stumbled out into the day and we walked. Together. Bless her for loving me as I am, and for meeting me in places that are not pretty. Eventually, the darkness ascends, and LO!, there is light, and her smile.