I made it through New Year’s!
It was much more of a helmet and bunker moment than I anticipated, but it is well with my soul. Whew. The aftermath of anything, when sober, is always better. A well earned nugget of wisdom that one.
Funny how this blog has become a bit of a priestess for me. My confession, good or bad. Honesty is my only prerequisite. She (I’ll assign a sex to my blog, ha!) actually factors into my resolve now.
I don’t want to lose this space with you, with myself, with us. And isn’t that the magic and the mystery of Love? Something conceived between Lovers that we all end up living and dying for.
Beauty needs nothing to survive. It might be the only absolute I believe in and it rises with equal ferocity out of darkness and light.
I am reminded of a line by poet Charles Bukowski from a piece called hangovers:
“it’s all been so beastly
this mad river,
that I would wish upon
Who can’t identify with that? That way in which addiction seduces us into isolation and tries to gut us in the corner. But even there the seed for recovery is planted if we only survive all those dark nights of the soul.
The seed is surviving. Sobriety starts with surviving and becomes its own beautiful being that we are then privileged to feed, cradle, laugh and cry with.
And wow do I love that the mad river still rages in me, and that the beastly lovely is something I would wish upon everyone now. The difference is now I am present, I am awake, and I know I am not alone.
Graciously you take my hand and we ride this bitch together. I love all of you and am so grateful for you in my life.
My words for 2016: honesty. poetry. YOU.
I can so commit to that.