Where I live, the weather seems to be less than cooperative. From the forest fires this past summer or the floods not too long ago, to the heavy snow and icy roads; it is as if mother nature is releasing her anger, or maybe like me she just gets restless.
As I sit in my office reflecting on my day, my work and then my walk, I can hear the rain outside. If you were to close your eyes it sounds like a gentle storm; like people, it seems always in a hurry. I can hear the rain hitting the roof hard, the water vibrates as it spreads like boulders or a landslide…down they go to the ground on my backyard, where it is welcomed by earth.
What sounds like a mini storm is how my heart felt earlier; as I led therapy today, I realize one more time the amount of wounds people can carry in silence– sadness masqueraded behind shy smiles. Depression seems to be present within just about every one of us, from basic discontentment, deep sadness, to out right turbulent physical and mental emotions. Emotions which can affect not just our outlook on life but also our body; this is left feeling heavy and rusty. The mind cloudy while the soul struggles to survive–caught in the war between what was and what is…between soul and spirit. So much pain and not enough of us willing to listen, to actually help; instead we seek to cover it up and expect others to do the same, that way we don’t have to confront that we too are hurt, angry, sad and so much more….
As therapy finished, I felt two very different emotions: I was glad to see those who were present walk away as if their steps were lighter…they had unburdened themselves. I managed to end therapy with a joke, which to be honest I am horrible at telling, yet it seems people enjoy the fact I find them so funny that I can’t help myself and I laugh as I tell them. I figured it was a good way to end a session which seemed pretty mentally charged. To see their faces look less tense than when we started–that is exactly why I do what I do. On the other hand, I don’t just dismiss what was said…they are not just a number to me; I guess that is what empaths do or so I am told; I often wonder whether or not I am an empath, as I can feel anger, at times even rage when I see someone trying to abuse another or when I see people enable abusers.
After a charged session, it takes me a while to find my center. I need to process, to understand, to feel all my emotions; in some ways I know I am experiencing them (the people I talked with and listened to) from the inside out–it is an honor but I can’t help to feel sad and angry knowing their hurts were caused by people…humans. I say to be human is divine, but at those moments I accept that to be human is a choice, and some choose not to be one.
I left there and went to my favorite place…the ocean. The rain didn’t bother me, instead it felt wonderful; like a gentle shower cleansing off burdens…eventually I felt cold, but I am getting ahead of myself….
As I stood there, I contemplated the horizon. I happen to think horizons best represent the paradox of today, tomorrow and the future…time.
To look at the horizon is to look at the unattainable, as you get closer, it keeps getting further…a mirage, an illusion like the ones we carry inside. This paradox is what poets often write about and what romantics and lovers best understand…what you wish but isn’t there, what you want for yourself but it seems you can’t have or so the world lies to us by reminding us of this false fact every day–yet poets, romantics, idealists, warriors and lovers, live to try to attain the unattainable.
Like Atlas they will take the weight of the world and prove them wrong every day; only to start the journey again the next day. Is it worth it?…I am a poet, a guide, a Tantric, so my answer is “yes”. I would rather keep trying to reach and embrace the magick that lives within and without than to give up because the world has become so callous; it tells me that is not moral to intensely feel magick, joy, sensuality, idealism, etc. They don’t want to see my pain or see the damage of the traumas imposed on me or those like me, yet they will try to punish for shamelessly daring to experience every emotion life offers…good and bad.
Precisely at that moment my internal horizon was lost; wandering aimlessly like the waves before my eyes–hidden behind the cloudy sky yet my spirit knows it is there. I looked out only as a reflection of my looking in, waiting for my center to reveal itself again…as it always does to those who embrace all of life’s moments; those who love what they do. As I waited for my center to be revealed, I remembered how many times I’ve stood looking at horizons. I have baptized those moments with sad names: names of traumas, pain, depression, lost loves, lost family, lost friends. I also baptized those moments with magickal names: names of places where I felt magick, names of mountains and rivers where my spirit soared, names of lovers, family and friends, in whose love I found a strong foundation and hope.
As I thought about all of these…what good and bad moments felt like. As my body started to shiver, I could feel myself starting to come “home”…to my center–it was returning to me or I to it. I wondered about the magick of horizons and thought about who else stood on the other end, contemplating, feeling life, letting it whisper to the poet inside, letting it breathe magick into a body made of bones and flesh. Sometimes as I wonder these things, naturally and without thinking it, I often whisper “find me”… perhaps I mean for life to find me when I am lost, to bring me back to my center.
Today I reflected on the fact that I was the horizon to someone else at the other end; someone who probably saw me only as the distant space, united by parallel lines of illusion and reality…knowing someone was at the other end but unable to know for sure…hoping by some magical power they can hear us, so they too may not feel lonely in this world…so they too, can find their center.
Perhaps that is the magick of the ocean and its horizon; the messenger, the carrier of dreams and deliverer of hope, idealism and strength…the constant among the superficial.
As I felt ready to get back, I whispered “In spite of the wounds and the pain….live. I send you a kiss and a forever”–why forever? For no matter what time does, the horizon will always be there, uniting what seems unattainable.