I've been waiting for someone to save my life. Or something. You know, ridiculous things, like the California lottery. American Idol. Or some dark knight in shining armor riding into my two-room studio apartment on a unicorn. There would be an unseen orchestra and the biggest blingin engagement ring you ever did see.
I’ve been waiting because there is a lot worth saving and no one ever taught me how to resurrect a metaphorically and figuratively dead entity, such as one's “life.” No one ever told me that there may come a time when I would have to devise a plan so brilliant and cunning that it would have to cut through years of disappointment, miles of grief, and immeasurable shame to save me from myself. (Yes, I said the “S” word in public and someone out there is glad I did.)
Do you think it’s possible to save your own life? I mean if life itself is possible, life actually having given birth to possibility, then I suppose anything is possible as long as you are alive.
So, I’ve decided that I will save my own life. I’ve been working it all out daily. On the BART train, in my sleep, in the morning on the toilet with my head in my hands. Firstly, I’ve come to terms with nearing 30. I’ve realized that there is not going to be a big bang. There’s not going to be some clean sweep or cataclysmic occurrence that’s going to finally make me happy, finally unlock my congested creativity, finally empty all the closets full of baggage and moth eaten chapters of life. It, rather, is a long drawn out continuous process with small bursts of joy and bites of pain along the way.
This is it right now, everyday that is passing is it. Every moment is it. Here now is my chance right in front of me, every breath every time. This breath and that breath and the next, each one having the potential to save my life. Each one a miracle even. If I would only notice.
It’s puzzling, actually it’s terrifying how often I seem to miss it. I guess that’s the problem with waiting.
So I’m not waiting anymore. Today I start saving my life. This is what it means to be a survivor. To chose. To survive.
***Stay posted to watch a true miracle occur before your very eyes. I’m about to show out like Jesus Christ.***
Please feel free to suggest life saving activities (LSA).
2 thoughts from the underground world of blog:
This is...umm, awesome. Written from the depths of a pained heart...that is now in the miraculous process of healing itself. I too used to be waiting...waiting for life to go my way, waiting for things to change. And then..well, then I got a clue. I grew a couple milimeters. And I figured out that life was in my hands. And oh god was that exhilarating! It still is!!
...about the bursts of joy and bites of pain. Of course the two exist! What would one be without the other? What is sweet without sour? What is darkness without light? What is cold without warm?? One dimensional. Boring. Worthless. Without contrast in life...well, it is meaningless. So enjoy those bites of pain. Get to know them. For they will open up greater bursts of joy for you. And you will appreciate them more!
You are amazing...I applaud you!
Raphael's friend
P.S. I too sit on the toilet in the morning..peeing with my hands in my palms...wishing the light would stop stinging my eyes! And then...off to another day!
Well...incidentally one of my yoga teachers once said, "you can't know heaven unless you know hell."
I was like ooooh, "controversy." (think Prince)
What do you think about this?
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