the old-school guestbook archives
my amazon wish list... my favorite astrologer... my favorite artist... yerba mate revolution! erowid: a travel guide for interior journeys... no more war: MoveOn.org United for Peace and Justice True Majority seek the truth: Common Dreams Unamerican Activities The Nation people I adore, diaries I read: rev.raikes ariana cubiclegirl epiphany glitter333 laurakay wammo the music: the asylum street spankers backyard tire fire blue highway bill camplin wendy colonna freedom tribe joules graves guy forsyth band hamsa lila hanuman libby kirkpatrick leftover salmon pamela means medeski martin & wood the motet the nice outfit nickel creek open road rose polenzani railroad earth south austin jug band string cheese incident taarka tha musemeant the devil makes three tim o'brien band trolley wild sage keller williams yonder mountain string band |
rhythms, seasons, and mysteries ~ 2001-03-05 - 00:41:20 I'm bleeding, and I don't know why... last night was one of those longdarkstrangescary nights, the kind I haven't had to endure for a long time. the kind of night that reminds me of who I was before my life flooded with light, of the dark road that brought me to this place. I remembered the girl I was when I told clare, there's a place inside me that's always screaming. I remembered that place, I remembered the screaming. I'm bleeding, and I don't know why... I'm so used to understanding what's going on inside my body, I know so well its rhythms and seasons, the stories told by knotted muscles, congested lungs. I'm the I-can-heal-anything girl, the sister who succeeds with a bagful of herbs and a few deep breaths where all the doctors and drugs and knives have failed. I'm the sister who rolls into town and puts her hands on you and tells you exactly where it hurts. I'm the sister who, once in a blue moon, can say just the words your heart needs to heal. the sister who has learned to live in her heart and move through the world with love and open hands. I feel like I'm falling apart. I'm bleeding, and I don't know why... I've got a bagful of herbs and a heart full of love and I can't do anything because I don't know what's wrong. I don't know. I'm bleeding, and I don't know why... it's familiar blood, just like the blood the moon draws from my womb each phase to remind me that I am a woman, and fertile, like good earth. but I'm feeling like an alien landscape because this blood may be familiar but it's not the right time. my phase of the moon came and went in taos, in albuquerque, in santa fe... I danced down my blood in wild nights of love and sweat and music, thinking how right and sweet it was that I should be on my moon for the journey's end. but no matter how I do the math, it's still too soon. it's not my time. I'm bleeding, and I don't know why... a long night, a dark and lonely night, the kind of night other people have, people who don't know how vast the love is the universe holds for them. people like me, once in a blue moon. because once in a great while even I forget. call it a crisis of faith. I'm bleeding, and I don't know why... I don't even realize, at first, how frightened I am, how alone I feel. it creeps up on me when I realize that the only position I am comfortable in is fetal. I curl on the couch under the ridiculous wonderful satin comforter ariana's grandparents gave her, watching movie after movie from ari's collection to give my mind something to do other than swimming in its own darkness. ariana spends hours in the bedroom on the phone while a friend walks her through a hideously complicated computer procedure. she doesn't realize I'm falling to pieces in the living room because I haven't thought to tell her. I wouldn't know what to ask for. and when she walks in at four a.m. and sits down I curl in close, and when I feel her arms around me I do fall apart, and I realize that maybe this is enough, this is all I could ever ask for: arms, around; the tears running down my face and soaking into her chest. for once not being the strong sister with everything to give, but the scared little girl who needs to be held. I'm bleeding, and I don't know why... I stay up well past dawn, reading Dangerous Angels and keeping my demons at arm's length. I sleep hard for a few hours, dream of trains and motion for the second time in two days. I wake to a white glare afternoon and start calling the free clinics. I'm bleeding, and I don't know why... the berkeley free clinic can't get me in tonight, they don't have the right people, but the woman on the phone doesn't think I should wait. she gives me numbers to call, places where people without jobs and insurance can get treated for free. she says there is a very cool women's clinic in the city, and I should call in the morning. I don't think you should wait... I get off the phone, take a deep breath. the note ariana left for me on the computer says that she may not be home until after midnight. I can make it through one more night, I whisper to myself, and then I start crying again, weeping like my heart is broken. I know this will be okay. I know I will be fine. I hold on to these things, tightly. like a little girl who feels all alone in the world. like the little girl I used to be. send some love and healing energy my way, okay? call me if you wanna: 510.469.5948. I'll probably be up. it's going to be a long night.
(((rings))) |