If you lose a part of who you are, does it regenerate like a star fish's arm? If one means of self-expression is cut off, then will the singing of the soul creep through another crack?
Life is change. We are change. But there is some underlying illusion (?) of continuity. There is a seeming-self that passes through so many manifestations, cellular changeover, and egoistic trappings. My teenage self is more a beloved relative than a me-now, but it she is still me. Seeing the world through a million different lenses than now, most certainly but I cling to some essence that folds-over all of me.The people whose souls chimed in harmony with mine in my early twenties still make melodic vibrations when we pass each other by so many lives removed. They saw something deeper than the trappings. And when I was with them, I felt them. And in the mirror of others, I see myself.
The adventurous kid who traveled around the world on her own on a budget living in dumps and making all kinds of dangerous mistakes in the serendipity of unspoken kindness of fate... same me who moans and groans at the week of insomnia and pain following a two hour plane ride.
The outgoing dancer whose wardrobe was overstocked with rhinestones and sparkling dresses for every (inappropriate occasion) is the same limping lady who considers jeans and a new shirt dressing up. I can't dance really anymore. And if I could I probably wouldn't stay up for it anyways. But the me that burbled to the surface in that environment is still there waiting to seep out in some other venue.
I can't really run anymore. Sometimes that was me. Sometimes it was honestly more a way of connecting with my super athletic husband than an innate self. But it was meaningful on those grounds. And sometimes, it was about breath and movement and feeling my body soar and a feeling i get through meditation or prayer now.
I was fit. Underweight, but fit. I blew away that stress treadmill test with my cardiac ability. I pretzeled through pilates...
But before that I was a little pudgy and had truly atrocious health habits and indulgences. And the people who saw me still saw me. More or less of me, they saw me.
I used to write surreal word-plays, stories and epics. Now typing too much hurts my wrists and I'm usually too scattered to form many coherent sentences about something other than Chaya.
I've been so many manifestations of "interesting" as I go through life singing my songs, feeling my spirit (and forming habits to mitigate my fears and anxieties).
And of course, now, "I got boring" except I didn't really. I just stopped finding ways to project the internal to the outside world. Not always. Not with everyone. Some people still see it, but I am probably at a point where I'm to find new languages to communicate my self. Not the Spanish I'm trying to learn through clunky self-study and embarrassed stumbles with indulgent friends. But something innate.
Beyond who I am , what do I want? Who do I want to be?
I want to be a conduit for the beauty and love flowing through this world. I want enthusiasm to win out over resentment. I want to celebrate the victories of others even in the fields I've lost access to. I also want to find ways to engage with the things I've lost in a new way. Or to find a new contentment in the me that is.
Have you ever known somebody who was so excited to see every little minor part of your deep inner self (warts and all) that you also got excited about them? I have. It's an inestimable gift I wish I could give more freely to the world. Sometimes I just wish I could be that friend to myself.
I want to accept people and appreciate them without the ego-investment that makes individual foiables grating. I want to let people be as they are and to celebrate that being. I want to let go of my carefully guarded caution and just be present in another's essence.
I want to say "wow that confused me... cool," knowing confusion is a first step towards growth.
And to find others who do the same with me.
I want to embody the understanding that the connection between all those MEs of the past, present and future extends much further to include every living being and all the world around us, and I want to embrace that dichotomy of uniqueness and unity that all creation holds.
To get there I probably have a lot of journeying to do, because that hasn't been centrally me as much as I'd like.
But through all of it, the me at the center has loved and does love fiercely. Sometimes with fear, but always compassion. The me through all of it has felt and seen beauty and has laughed at the whimsy of the stars. And I get to do that daily with the little monster. It's easier (sometimes) to suspend your ego with young children. Chaya teaches me everyday the humility and patience I need for the rest of the world (sometimes anyways).
Whatever future-me is, I hope she dances still. If not her body, with her soul. And I hope I can share a dance with every one of you.
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