The sun paddles over the ground and into the open sky. I watch it gently seep into my drawn curtains and realize that it is time again to move. Now do not take me for a free loving tree hugger, with no offence to free loving tree huggers, but over the past few weeks, I’ve been battling with the idea that I wish to live. Not simply survive or hope to survive comfortably but play an active role at this being alive situation. The most eager solution staring back at me as I brush my teeth is to let go of anything that might throw this current endeavor off.
I proceed with this interrogation in front of the mirror, fancying myself a one woman island. This quickly escalates into a one woman kingdom where the laws of happiness and choice come down to a single idea – forgiveness. Let all of it go, every last drop. For my peace of mind, for the sake of moving forward, not as a linear citizen of existence but as one that wishes to reach out of the confines of my spite, my malice and my anger, justified or not.
Without the bounds of what classifies as progress, my intervention with self has found my fingers smudged red and purple from writing with lipstick. It is midday now and sprawled in rings and lines right across my mirror are the names of everything I’ve been running away from up until this point.
So even as you read this I write and edit with my mind’s eye all that brings me discomfort, painful memories and anguish. How this will end I cannot say for I too have not reached it, but I grow ever closer to the intention, and shall rise as something light enough to paddle over the ground and into the open sky.