Because sometimes things happen for no real reason, and loss comes and unhinges the doors
and your heart is so filled with paper cuts that it turns into the wound that won't heal.
And you need to know there is a hand, reaching out to hold yours in the dark. Because sometimes it is the dark itself that wants your love and attention, the shadows coming and reminding you of what you once buried and abandoned long ago and now it wants to be unearthed and invited inside.
Because we ache for the want to sit and feast on our life, to welcome all parts of self to the table, to commune.
Because grief takes everything we have, and we do not know who we will be when we swim to the other side and find ourselves standing on solid ground.
Because you are giving birth.
Because you are thrashing in the shadows left by the gods you once believed in.
Because sometimes illness comes and knocks you over and all the things you thought you would do or think or feel are not what you are actually choosing and you don’t know if you even know yourself anymore, or where to go when all the edges are rough to the touch.
Because sometimes things happen that are so inexplicably stunning, and life just keeps moving on and forward and what you really want is for the smallest stop, so you can stand and stomp in the utter wonder of your life’s mystery.
Because you are dying.
Because we wake up and look around and it is like we are in the middle of a story we don’t remember starting, all the vows we broke and all the wars we waged inside and all the questions that came when what we believed began to go up in smoke, and yet we lit the match with our hand.
Because we are close to the bone and members of the scar clan, pilgrims seeking the promised land of belonging in our bodies, restless to release and aching for attunement to the movement of the sacred and profane in our days, risking everything for the sake of our own wholeness.