How do you know you’ve come back to your self? Have you been wondering how you didn’t even notice your self walking away?
Looking back, as we always do and for good reason, I can pinpoint when I started walking away from myself. The period in my life where I thought I was strong enough not to let another’s pain distract me from loving myself first. Then was when I spoke to myself and didn’t listen. I must have gotten so fed up with falling upon deaf ears that I simply blew a kiss, turned and gently slid out the door. “You’re on your own. I love you.” I whispered.
I am such a sucker for reaching out to uplift others, that I am sometimes foolish enough to give the entire contents of my refrigerator to the hungry family across the street, then realize the grocery store is 30 miles away and I have no car. And that’s ok. I’ll go gather from my garden. But what happens when you let your garden get so weeded that most of everything fruitful has been so choked that the nourishment it can provide is lacking, greatly?
I am so extremely grateful to the others in this world who are born rescuers, includers, caregivers, lovers, dreamers, etcetera. They’ve been there on the sidelines, along with the version of myself who needed to give me some space.
When my castle crumbled, they crept in as needed. Some as first responders, others as transport and acute trauma care. Some as emergency room staff, then to the nurses. All the nurses, there are so many nurses in the world that will never get the credit due to them simply because it is infinite. Here’s to the nurses. The physical therapists, the psychologists, the spiritual healers. And yes, of course the doctors, who orchestrate the entire healing process by opening the door and allowing me to invite myself back into the room.
So now that we have met again, we are taking the opportunity to tend to our garden.
We are becoming one again
With thoughts that grow like flowers from our heads,
Like moss between our toes,
With sunshine in our eyes.