The Shift, The Twist and The I AM

My hand on the door knob. The door to one of my most favorite places, and I’m afraid. This place is a sanctuary, a place of refuge. We gather together to love and be loved. My gut turns and twists, but my wrist refuses. I pause or freeze or just need a breath or two. Where is this fear coming from and why?

I changed. These last thirty days changed me. I’m a different person, and that is scary.

I found a thankfulness for the legacy of faith that brought me to this point, while facing the pain caused by that same faith. My heart found rest in the surety of family. I saw the belief held from childhood, I cause the pain, disintegrate. I found my voice to defend the integrity of my conviction, and a hope for the benefit of the doubt.

My core shifted. Then she twisted. For days, she spun like a tornado. I lost her. For a minute that seemed like eternity, I lost her.

On the other side of that door is a friend. Someone who sees me, the real me. That place deep inside covered, not just with skin and bones and blood, but with thoughts and beliefs. That part of me that is just here. Present, without time. That I AM created by God, in the image of God. What if she sees something I don’t? What if I’m not me anymore? What if there’s nothing to see?

I simply shifted, right? I let go of some of those beliefs that held me in bondage? I’m still here? I just need to open more space to hold this new strength, right?

For a few seconds, my wrist fights with my brain, who argues with my heart, until I see the strength that is me. I am. I am here. I am safe. I am ready. I am.

Am I?

My brain sends the signal to my wrist, and the door opens.

She was becoming herself and daily casting aside that fictitious self which we assume like a garment with which to appear before the world.
Kate Chopin, “The Awakening”

The Flying Lesson
(Oh, which one do I choose? They all apply. My flying lessons intertwine. One adds meaning to another, but at the same time seems in opposition.)
Really live, now.

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