archeology of self

The reality is that the excavation never stops.  The constant need to have the tools ready.... the tools that search, that dig, that aim to tap that vein of truth, of passion, of self-understanding awaiting discovery inside each one of us.

I slowly chip away at finding and knowing the structure within me.  The bones of my soul.  The calm peace of being in tune and aware and in quiet control.

But I continually feel I dig in dry places, and that my precious time in life is squandered, wasted, by my falsely-guided meanderings.  By the ticking of time my metronome clicks back and forth, one heartbeat at a time, one wreckingball pendulum swung at a time, un-doing the me I thought I was.

The renovations.  The ebb and flow of surely knowing who I was with the inevitable taste of wondering who I am, anyway.

I crumble down.
I start back up.
And I rebuild, with what I have already unearthed.
I brush away at my fossils, at my truths, that I am bringing to life.

That, again.

It took me by a slowly realized surprise. 
The hollow that creeps. 
The sadness that fills with its bold void, all four chambers of my metronome core, a temporary sense of Ugh.  I went to Target today to scope out the Mother's Day card selection.  Scanning the rows for something funny or cute (oh how I so dislike the sappy stuff!), the section labeled Grandmother caught my eye.  Then my sights lingered on the Sister assortment, especially.  Cool.  Two cards I would normally buy as well, completely eliminated from my choosing this year.  And forever more. 

I didn't even expect that I didn't expect that to surprise me.  But it did.

Unavoidable tokens of others missing from life.  I love them mostly, and hate them sometimes.... the reminders.  The encouraging note from Christine I used as a bookmark, forgotten, slips out of my novel as I thumb the pages.  My grandma's earrings that I quietly feel privileged wearing glitter through my hair.  They are there and they are not.  Life takes shape, breaks down, and reforms.  Learning to hear the whispers of them, now, is the challenge is the sadness is the beauty.

Coupling

Today?  Ask me about today. 

For the first in...shit, I can't remember, I possess a genuine happy outlook.  I can sense it from my chest, beaming outward.  It's been a while since I have felt that happy heat, that positive energy, self-generated from an inner mysterious center of who-knows-what kinda love.

It's January.  The first month of the new year and I believe 2012 will be a fresh start.  End of the world?  Okay.  The end is the beginning is the end, and so forth.  I've got plans.  Morocco and Portugal, a wedding I have the privilege of being in, Coachella, and countless other randoms to look forward to.  Again, the inescapable ying yang combo comes into play in every life scenario.  I am constantly awoken by dreams of my sister, I'm crying the energy out of me into her arms, a serene comfort, evanescent, temporary, bittersweet presence of the now of my sleep.  Is she there?  Are you there?  Is that really you?  Or just a cast shadow of what was.  No, it's you.  It's her.  I know it.

So there's that.  Life.

I feel good.