I live in my head. All the time. I am up there, banging around, far too often like bricks in a dryer.
BAM!
BAM!
THUD!
CLANK!
So goes the inner workings of my mind. But as loud as it can be up there, it is so much preferable than the quiet, the deafening quiet of my heart. That still, silent place scares the fuck out of me, if I am being honest. And I am being fucking honest.
So while it is likely even less than two feet from my head to my heart, it is a two foot journey that I avoid studiously, repeatedly and in perpetuity.
I am not sure if it is the descent that scares me. The silence. The stillness. The peacefulness that so often seems like boredom. There isn’t much to do down there in my heart, it just feels things, radiates them outward and allows them to be reflected back and absorbed.
Fuck that is terrifying.
But up in the lofty head space, things are loud and clanging and banging around and awesome. It is chaotic and ridiculous. But most of all it is safe. I mean, it isn’t really, my head and all of its bouncing has landed me in some pretty fucked up situations, but somehow, over the sound desert of my heart, the rave of my head feels more peaceful.
Yes, I know that makes me a nut job.
But I also know that I am not the only nut job...
It took me at least twenty years to even begin to make the incredible two feet journey. I mean never, have I ever, avoided going so little distance with so much resistance! I mean, never, fucking ever. But I did. For most of my life. I did everything I could not to travel from my headspace to my heartspace.
I think in the beginning I believed the story of my mind, it said, “it is so boring there! Why bother?” And that controlled me for a very long time. But in the last ten years, I kind of became a curious neighbor and began peeking over the fence when I was sure no one was looking. And I began to see things that I could not see before...
Things like how attractive still quietness can be...
Things like how peaceful boredom is...
Things like the absence of busyness will not actual kill me...
Things like the effort expended to get from my head to my heart, reaps rewards that I could not even fathom or entertain without the effort...
I have now made that two foot drop many times...but no matter how often in the last ten years I have been willing to make the trip, I still act like I am going to swim to Hawaii or trek across the US in the winter on the Northern route. I stall, delay, avoid and attempt, however feebly, to pretend that I do not really need to make that two foot drop. It is a heart journey and so, there will be some breaking in, breaking down and breaking through...and that is always painful. Fucking Goddammit!
But it is worthwhile pain. And not all pain is worthwhile...some of it is self created bullshit. God knows I have created enough of that shit in my life. Pain that was really unnecessary and totally unproductive...And I did so because I was usually unwilling to make that two foot drop...which ironically caused more, not less, pain and strife for myself and those in the crash/slash zone which would be everyone I have ever loved...
And, I am there again, needing to drop into that heart space that terrifies me. My dad’s health failing, my mom’s health and progress delayed, my son’s return home imminent. Big life changes on the horizon of my life and my immediate solution is to say, “fuck this shit,” and then move to Maui.
But I know things that I didn’t know before...
And that is the you can travel thousands of miles to avoid making that two foot drop...and it is all wasted effort. Those miles, the distance will not save you, it will only keep you stuck and scared and alone. Bravery and courage require that you push forward and downward into the occupancy of your soul. That place we all fear to tread, that place where we feel lost, forlorn and flummoxed by that still quietness that is the calling of our own being, not the bullshit we peddle to others but that place that resides within us all that calls up inconvenient things like...
This is painful. Be caring to yourself...
You are going to need support...
Tears are required, not optional...
Life hurts sometimes, it feels like forever but it isn’t...
Life comes to pass but not pain, pain is not avoidable...
These thoughts and feelings haunt you like a ghost haunts hallowed ground on October 31st. The apparition real, not imaginary, the occupation complete and total.
I have moved, broken down, closed off, ended things, began things, ran to the other side of the country, ran back again, bought shit, returned shit and starved myself all in an effort to avoid making that simple, profound and life falteringly painful two foot drop...and I am there again.
However, this time, this fucking time, I am not as afraid. I see the work to be done and I know that I have the courage even though my head lies to me and tells me that I cannot be this brave...I am, I am that fucking brave. I can step off the ledge of my mind and allow myself to freefall...
It isn’t a 30,000 foot freefall, it is only two feet! I am not jumping off the Grand Canyon, I am stepping off a curb in the most beautiful place I have ever been, in full occupation and possession of this life, my life, right here and right now. With a full heart and an empty mind. Saying, fuck yes!
Bring
It
On
Two feet is nothing, really.
I have traveled a lot farther in this life to cover way less ground.
Today, the ground is strictly internal, and so I go...with fear, not without it. Because in making the two foot drop, fear is always a companion...no matter what you tell yourself to the contrary.
But walking forward with fear to the edge of your own heartland is the best, most wonderful use of bravery I have ever known. So I go again, to the center of myself and begin anew, whatever awaits me at the bottom of those two fucking feet...bracing still for the quiet stillness that always returns me from my loan out status with others, to myself. Always, back to me...the longest, shortest journey this life has ever known.
