Lessons i’ve leart in heartache
Exploring the irony of polarity and the importance of mentalism.
This a lesson I learnt in heartache.
Heartache will take you to the forgotten places.
The hidden, stowed away,
Swept under the rug places.
The places the garden hose does not quite reach.
And as you awake form this vivid analgesic love slumber,
nothing can prepare you,
No balm will soothe you.
A leper of your own doing.
Heartache comes like a thief in the night, But cannot take what is native and infects what is alien.
Heartache then, perhaps the greatest gift.
An inescapable illumination of all that will no longer serve you.
Heartache is seldom about the other person.
We are indulged with ideals of vibrating in and emanating unconditional love.
The ALL, being love.
But the depths of love are in union with the depths of hate — hardly a Hallmark greeting.
One morning I woke to an unbearable physical manifestation of the unseen. I took myself to the waters edge.
Where salty air meets open wounds.
Each kiss a stinging reminder that I exist among the living.
The unlovable lit on me, like the glow in the dark stars on the roof of my childhood room.
Submerged beneath the waves, I howl.
“I am more than just a body”
”More than your wild card”
”More than your conquest”
”Your experiment”
Like that of a breaking dam, salty water colliding with each word.
“I am a home, not a halfway house”
”A pilgrimage, not a refuge”
”I am more than spare parts”
”TAKE ME WHOLE”
As the muffled echoes drowned in vast abyss, I realised I spoke words meant only for me.
And I laughed in this irony — In this pendulum, seeming joke, of polarity.
See, I began to laugh in that all consuming ocean as I realised in that single moment…
That in my knowing of deep seeded hate, equal depths of love were already available to me.
This plague that left no stone unturned was never really a plague.
Rather a shedding,
A painful debridement.
A realisation that what I was morning, was never truly me.
That is why closure is never gained by the lips of another.
In end it was always about you.
Your internal dialog.
Only in the words, thoughts and actions you take unto yourself.
Only in the realisation that your pain is both the poison and the cure.
Only in the irony of polarity and the discipline of mentalism will your leprosy subside.
I’ve been exploring the irony of polarity and the importance of mentalism in my personal experiences.
I can’t tell you how important my movement practice has been in moving emotions through my body.
And my journaling practice to help me integrate their lessons.