Laying there, my back pressed against the mattress. The hem of pillowcases against my cheek and forehead. Warm air, bright light, and stillness all around me. Warm tears building up in the corners of my eyes, carefully and softly dropping over the edges and running down across my face, over my jaw and onto my neck. They run softly into my hair.
I ache, way down inside. I ache.
From way down inside, a calm settles over me. The tears dry and feel tight in the sunlight. The convulsions subside, and my heart rate returns to normal. I replace silent tears with a single, heavy sigh.
Everything is as it should be. You are you, and I am me. There is nothing to be done, nothing further to be said. It is accomplished.
One who chooses a vulnerable life, where each word is sincere. Said in hate, spite, sadness, pain, calm, kindness or love is open to the lashings of silence, brutality, bitterness, as well as light, hope, truth, and friendship. It is a single piece of the whole. We can not choose which parts. To defend myself is absurd, to protect myself is futile. I am loved. I am free. I am present, vulnerable, available, and I am accountable. That is the very best of me. No ache in my heart could ever take that away. For me, this is what it means to truly be a man. I can not even imagine your shipwreck from this place. You are lost at sea, gone from me and mine.
I liberate this suffering from its container, and like the smoke from my incense bowl, it alights into the air and dances in the sunlight.
Change of heart Change