I feel like I have so much to say that I don't even know where to begin. Although when I think back to the past nearly 21 years of my life, I've almost always felt that way. I'm a mess of emotions and thoughts, similar to one of those violent summer storms that sweeps in off the water dumping rain and sweeping spiders and loose branches onto the ground.
Things are changing... I am currently looking for a new job. I feel scared and bewildered, like someone keeps turning the lights on and off. I don't have enough time to get used to the light or the dark!
Although I feel a bit shocked, I don't feel unsure. I haven't been sober particularly long, but I've been clean long enough to know that the only thing I ever have control over is how much I am loving God in this moment.
Does that sound cliche? Does it seem like it doesn't make sense? It didn't make sense to me at first either. That thought first occured to me tonight actually as I was cleaning up after making myself some dinner. I was spinning in crazy circles in my head, obsessively trying to figure out where I'm going to get my next job, where I'm going to live, and who I'm going to live with. I felt like I was grasping at nothing, willing smoke in the air to solidify and save me.
Then I saw a poem by one of my favorite poets, Pablo Neruda. It goes like this:
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
So I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
Isn't that magnificent? As I read that poem, I thought of my Higher Power. And although just the moment before I had been filled with fear, for some reason I immediately had the thought... I love you, God. And I felt a warm little rush in my chest like washing dirt off my hands in the sink.
Because really, what else is there to do in this life besides love God? I wish I could explain it better than that, but I'm not sure how. All I can say is that tonight I have faith in my God that I am being not only taken care of, but provided for in more wonderful and creative ways than I can even fathom right now.
Just like the poem by Neruda says, I love God as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers... I love God even though I can't see an end point point and I don't even fully understand what this Universe is. I love God without knowing how, or when, or from where... I love God straightforwardly, without complexities or pride...
I love God because that is all I truly have. There is not always going to be someone around to tell me I'm pretty and smart, and as time goes on and I age those things might fade anyway.
So what truly defines me? My love of God. And I love God, with every fiber of my being - how can I not? I am divine. And that's all I have to say about that.