Christmas Epiphany
My Beautiful Darling,
I’m feeling like the impossible, like the “impossible dream” might win. What do I mean by this?
I mean, I feel like the part of me that whispers inwardly, that whispers nastily, that whispers black clouds and grime-filled inky doubts, that whispers violently - I would say that it is “violent” because the marks it leaves upon me are gashes, tears and fissures; ruptures gouged into my being, leaving me in ruins - that whispers stealthily, this secret, slinky monster is whispering to me and I feel that its whispering might win; might just overtake and embody all, might just slay my dreams and in its stead cry victorious “your dreams were never meant to be.” Your dream for your own heart and for humanity “is foolish, childish and of little value.” Cry out victorious “your dream is impossible,” and “you will live a small life with small happenings of inconsequential merit.” This monster smiles wickedly and sneers at me, it chants “you are a nobody,” and “let that be your last ‘thought’ as you age and turn to dust… as the beating within you slowly rots… until the blood in your veins curdles and your armor of flesh and mortal webbing simply slips away… until you lie naked on a steel table, fluids draining from your carcass as the formaldehyde, seeping poison, begins to cool and solidly every bit of your every organ, every molecule you so frivolously and so embarrassingly wasted.” The monster says “your life was a gift and you should be ashamed.” It says “compare yourself to the rest, compare yourself to each and every other human…” and you will see, in this oh so cleverly crafted analogy, “that others have done more with less.” The monster says “your dream was too big,” and “your visions for yourself too bright.” The monster says “better to have chosen a lane, better to have climbed the ladder, better to have played the beauty / wealth / power / fame / intelligence game,” “better to have run the rat race you foolish girl.” The monster is an arrogant little imp; it whispers “give up now,” and “there might still be a chance for you to achieve something,” “some shred of something worth having.” Darling the monster is that part of me that fears, that fears you won’t want me, if I share my honest feelings, my honest intentions, and my honest, more heartfelt wishes… for myself, and for our relationship.
But my darling, it’s Christmas. And bells are ringing, and the spirits are singing… and so I’m feeling brave. Perhaps braver than I ought to be, but braver none-the-less. And so I’ve made a list, a list of things I want to say out loud to you and for all to hear. This is my Christmas Epiphany:
Thou shalt not be “embalmed, cremated, buried” or “otherwise disposed of” until thou is good and ready. Death is not our enemy. And do not use death, the “guise of death” to try to scare us.
Thou shalt not live “in fear.” Thou shalt not live “in terror.” Thou shalt not be made a victim of violence, of repression, of obsession, of addiction, of manipulation and coercion, of domination nor intimidation of any kind. We are powerful. We are the rightful rulers of our own lives. And we are not afraid to step into the light in any moment, at any time, of our own choosing. Thank you very much.
Thou shalt not “forget” to laugh. Thou shalt not be made “a fool” by making the fool. To be silly is to be alive. And never will you strip us of our dignity, nor our comedic relief. A joke said well is a tale as old as time, and a tale we will forever tell. You are not the boss. We make up our own rules.
Thou shalt not drown in sorrow, nor despair. For sorrow (that broken soldier) and despair (that wounded warrior) are not alone. We are with them. We carry our friends in times of need; both our victories and so called “defeats” are lived together, are lived as one thumping heartbeat. I am not alone, for I have you. And you are not alone, for you have me. One equals one forever. This is simple math. This is as primary as primary can be. Get over it.
Thou shalt not surrender. Thou shalt not “forget” the dream, nor “deem the dream impossible.” For the dream is everything, the dream is Eternity. So let me fail a thousand times, so let me die a thousand deaths, always and forevermore more I will bloom anew, refreshed, and restored to my imperial form. I am a sovereign entity. I am free to choose my choices and to trust in the grandeur of my own indestructibility. I dare you to try to break me, for you will find, in your futile attempts - a river of light, pulsing behind the glow of my eyes, so big and so bright, that upon meeting its magnificence you will be immediately and immaculately returned to me, made whole. I dare you to confront me, I dare you to look me in the eyes - go on, go ahead, see what happens when the self looks steadily upon self, when the god looks steadily upon the cosmos - go on; see yourself sparkle and see the stars shine. We ARE the light. We ARE the dream. And I will not be denied. I will not be in darkness depraved, deprived. For I am the harbinger… and in my ill-lit shadows, and in those facets of my doubt-slanting edges… you will find… one continuous line; a sterling harmonious frontier. You are to think of me as a diamond. Perhaps my underside, affixed to a silver band does not shine so bright… but it is my underside affixed to that band that holds me up, that steadies me in place, and allows the brightest side of my shining to travel upon the contours of a human hand; so perhaps you would like to think of me as a diamond ring. Think of me the mark of beauty. I “appear” dark where my edge juts up against flesh, but that is only an illusion - flip me upside down, turn me inside out - and let it be revealed. I am a shining force, unbroken in connection points. Appearance is preference; appearance is in the “eye of the beholder.” Call it dark, call it light… at my core I am diamond; in my heart I am vibrant. Do not bring this up again.
My darling it is Christmas. It is a time for celebration, for revival and to take comfort. We are not alone. We have one another, we have all each other, and so too the aid of divine, angelic forces. The Earth, at this moment of revolution around the sun, is being showered in Love. Is being illuminated by the voices of the angels, and by the voices of our singing hearts. Do not fear a virus. Do not fear opposing notions. We are connected throughout the ages. And I love you so much.
I look to a baby in a manger. I look to that human in the mirror. I look to you, with your sparkling eyes and your tears glinting bright… and I say “you are enough.” “You are a thousand times more perfect, and more special… than ever had I dreamed; my heart swells and grows beyond the bounds of its own knowing, and grows beyond the bounds of its own beauty… in such merriment, in such cheer-filled song… because of you, because of the joy you have brought. You are the gift of Christmas.
Your birth, and your life - human child, human adult - is the greatest gift of all.
May you be blessed. May you always know the measure of the Infinite One. May you always travel by star.
May gold, frankincense and myrrh always serve as mortal gifts to a beloved daughter, to a beloved son… bathed and anointed in flesh; born first, and forevermore… in light and sound, in a brilliance growing beyond itself… forever growing in Love.
Happy holidays Beautiful. Whatever your corner of the planet, may you be well. And strong. And confident.
Xo,
