April 21, 2003 - 10:23 p.m.
my passion is vulnerability
Sometimes I feel like a mountain made of ice and stone - nothing could touch me, penetrate me, break me. This frightens me. It's so lonely being a mountain. I quickly climb down from that place and plunge myself into a boiling pool of vulnerability.
Most of the time I look at myself and I swear I must be translucent... So fragile, my bones like hollow egg shells easily broken... My skin so easily torn, as wet paper... My voice so dry, tattered by the wind... And the ache of my heart about to burst with love - for every little thing at any little moment... I almost turn back into a mountain, to never show my joy in the world...
But I'm more like an icicle hanging perilously from a tree, and just as the sun rises, while I weep at the beauty, the warmth, I melt and lose my grip, I tumble to the ground and shatter...
But in my fractured state I find true grace - light reflecting off of every shard. I am transformed. Broken apart, the love bursts forth in every direction. There is no such thing as Me. Tiny little bubbles of laughter... I am everything I can imagine... I love myself through you, and you...
This is my next chapter...
