My Heart, A Watering Hole

My heart, a watering hole

“They both listened silently to the water, which to them was not just water, but the voice of life, the voice of Being, the voice of perpetual Becoming.”

~Hermen Hesse, Siddhartha

I. Recognizing Desertification

In a loud room

Full of buzzing voices, gaming shouts, and gales of giggles

Slow down.

Find the silence

Focus inward.

You are the only one who knows

What opening feels like

And closing down.

You cannot define that for another.

I can see him

In the red/black blue/black

Backdrop

Behind my eyes

He is walking beside me

Encased in his memory

His shields are up thick and high

Warning me to keep my guard up

Which I will not do

I’ve spent my life learning

How to remain open

And now I see

The key has been here all along

It’s a matter of me loving me

More than anyone else can ever harm me

Look in my own eyes

Revel in my own beauty,

love,

       tenderness

I cannot have expectations for you

Set your goals

Choose your path

I cannot open your heart.

I can, however, find ways to show kindness

I can find ways to be a source of comfort,

Joy, laughter, companionship

I can be with you on your journey, if you let me

Because I’m learning to be with myself

On mine

II. Saving the rain water

What happens inside me is

Like a black and white movie

Fed and refed, to play on an endless loop

A little girl wonders where the arms have gone

The ones that were meant to embrace her

A young woman does not believe the mirror

But the words of friends and family condemning her moment of confidence

I want to be told I am beautiful

Over and over

I want to be seen.

I want someone outside myself

To look at me dressed

                In a ball gown

                In a Tardis dress

                In jeans and a too big T-shirt

                In a garter belt and thigh high stockings

And be stunned

By the light they see in me

I want to be the first person thought of

When there is anger

Or sorrow

Loneliness

Laughter.

Or one of the first.

What if no one outside of you can ever

Comfort you?

What if the deepest tender parts of you

Are burnt beyond ever believing again?

Even if I don’t believe those things are true

If you believe it, they become the truth

So I focus inward again

Recalling that the culling

Of your fear demons

Is not my job

I have my own tigers to tame

Wounds to lick, muscles to build, trees to plant

I remember I, alone, am the star in this looping movie

III. Transformation

In art, the complimentary colors

Are the ones opposite each other

On the color wheel

The ones you might not, initially, pair

In science, opposite poles

Attract- electron to proton

Creating static electricity

The pouring stroke of lightning fire cracking apart the universe

For one small, sensual second

Buddhism teaches that without the absolute

The relative may devolve into pity, sentimentality

Without the relative, the absolute

May melt to nihilism and a lack of desire to engage

It is possible to love without clenching

In fact, isn’t that how love should really work?

To hold loosely, leaving all the locks off

Unlatch the gate

Unclip the restraints

Step into the breeze, together

There is so much to explore!

Both inside and out.

Every adventure story expands

With someone to share it, water it,

Tend to its needs.

Why not go one step further? From surviving

To thriving?

Turn a desert into a green and growing haven.

Build rainwater roofs

Composting toilets and find alternative fuels

That leave the trees

Alone.

When you like a flower, you pluck it

And when you love it? The Buddha says

When you love it,

You water it daily.

Someday, I’ll have a whole

Flower garden. 

Let’s listen to hear

Where the water will come from.