Today, a friend woke up in crisis. I reached out to my community to see if we might be a part of the solution, to see if we have among us the means to produce a vehicle for a woman in need.
I asked because she is me, and I am her, and so many of her needs are my needs – security, love, acceptance, understanding, peace, dreams, hope, sanity, and the rest. Radically different in every way, and at the same time, not at all. We are but a few billion different pieces of the One, spread about the curvy goodness of the great mother.
If a miracle can happen for one woman, then it can for every one of us. That is why I asked them to support her; I need to believe it’s possible to be supported when the crisis is bigger than I can face alone.
Every one of us has awakened feeling outside of the fabric of the universe, alone and adrift. It is as if choices are made — for us and, later, by us — that pull us away from the Truth of our own experience. Hooked, again and again, until eventually, we can’t help but come undone.
And while we can never truly be cut loose from the divine that lives within and beyond us, sometimes we feel completely alone.
We dance and pray and meditate and paint and breathe, slowly weaving our lonely thread back into the fold of what Is. We seek and practice, write and study. We unpack our history, one story at a time. We cultivate freedom with every secret we share. We unleash our rage on piles of pillows, and sometimes, sadly, even on brick walls. We howl our hurt into the darkness of whatever safe place we create for ourselves.