Ode to my Sisters and Brothers who Fall
Ode to my sister and brother fallers:
Those of us who either jumped
Or think we were pushed into the next turning in the cycle of change.
We are freefalling and sometimes
It is messy
It is painful
And it wakes us up with floods of anxiety in the middle of the night
Or replaces the sense of satisfied tired at the end of the day
With a wave of a need to stay up just a bit longer and do just a bit more.
There is a danger in attempting to wrap an experience in the language of beautiful when in fact.... it was not.
While we may strive to ever look onward and upward
And we speak the language of oneness...
We create a barrier between ourselves and those who truly desire
To know us well.
We may not be speaking authentically.
And when we speak the truth of the moment before the fall
We may be met with well intended affirmations of
It is all good
Everything happens for a reason
Hold the light
And we may even say those things ourselves and if we do...
May they truly be... what is in our heart of hearts.
What is true for me...
I jumped intentionally
And yet unprepared for some consequences.
My wings have not sprouted yet
And all the bones are in the air spinning in wild patterns
Not fitting yet into
A still unformed plan.
I can make it sound pretty
But pretty.... isn't where we touch beauty.
I may crash to the earth a bloody mess
And you will
Hear me say...
It is all good.
But it is mine.
So to my sister who is falling...
To my brother who is falling...
Right this minute...
I can absolutely be in the mess with you.
Because I own fully...
My own current messy fall.
Where we touch or see or hear each other
With flailing arms and
Blood curdling screams...
That is where we authentically meet.
I know who I am...
Do you know who you are?