Tidal Waves
and other thoughts that rise to the surface
I'm working through my Judgement write up and this little piece came to mind. I'm reminded of the days when I used to go to an open mic poetry night in Miami every Friday after work. Standing there, shaking with nervousness in front of a crowd of strangers, sometimes it would be so bad my teeth would chatter, but I forced my way through.
I had to go out of my way to sign up to hopefully be called on stage. I did this repeatedly, anxiously awaiting an opportunity for validation and simultaneously dreading the experience. I remember judging myself so harshly then. I was in my early 20’s a year into a two-year piercing apprenticeship. I would have leave work early to get there in time. As I just said, I had to literally make the effort and for WHATEVER reason I did it. I even felt comfortable enough to dance as part of their music night because at the time I was studying Tribal Fusion belly dance!
Despite my theatre background, I was absolutely terrified of speaking. To be fair, I specialized in performance art and stage production, so my body spoke more than my mouth. I think doing this open mic was my way of trying to break through my fear of public speaking. I still don't consider myself a great public speaker, but I know that I grew a lot as a person because of what became a weekly ritual. It gave me the opportunity to meet a lot of really incredible people, and many of those people I consider to be pivotal points in my journey, even if I ended up just being a side character in theirs. A few I even still think fondly of, which says a lot if you knew how selfish I was back then (oh hello, Judgement). I got the chance to introduce my friend group to the event and even better, got to witness people I care about share their gifts on stage! I don't know…It just felt like a really good time in my life, and I only wish I had the wherewithal to realize it then instead of 10+ years later.
Anyway, I think there is a lot to be said about judgment in this piece. And hopefully a little later I'll have the rest of the “official” write up finished and scheduled for early next week.
For now, we ponder and muse.
They said I was intelligent beyond measure, gifted, brilliant, special. That I had purpose, and I believed every word of it. I got cozy and comfy thinking I would always be ahead of the game. Before I realized it, I found myself falling down a rabbit hole and through a looking glass into a world that I no longer recognized.
I prayed for the day that I would reach for a glass of water instead of a bottle or a shot glass, so I didn’t have to feel anything but numb.
Alice who?
I felt more like the Cheshire Cat fading in and out of realities, untethered, unreal, unbecoming, but still a weird guide and teacher in their own right. How egotistical of me.
For so long I thought I knew where I was going, only to realize a little too late the map I had was outdated.
Pages faded, that X was supposed to mark the spot!
It turned out to be a faded Jolly Roger instead.
I used to write poetry so full of heartache and longing it would make you weep. Now I sit unraveling knots in a thread that was supposed to lead me out of the labyrinth, crying to myself instead.
Probably should have paid attention to class when learning how to tie sailing knots…
Or was it breadcrumbs that I was supposed to follow?
I…I think the birds got to those.
At the very least, something that appeared to have chicken legs.
So many ways.
Like some part of me knew that I was going to have to find my way out eventually but I just didn't know where I would or what I would have available. Instead, I tangled myself up in a myriad of daring escapes. Overcompensating again, as usual.
Some Hero’s Journey this is.
Where is Elen of the Ways when I need her?
A Loial soul along these Ways would make all the difference in deciphering these guideposts.
I’m afraid I’ve long since discarded the map, but perhaps it's been misplaced just until learn to read it a little better.
Though here there be dragons.
I prayed for the day that I reached for a glass of water instead of a bottle or a shot glass, so I didn't have to feel anything but numb. And l when that day came, I let my feelings bleed out slow enough that I was able to deal with the pain.
You see, I've been inoculating myself with over the years. Just a little poison here and there! Paracelsus did say that the only difference between a medicine and a poison is the dosage, right?
So, I prayed for the day when I’d have some sweet tea in my hand inside of glass and I wouldn’t have to worry about that rabbit hole, loophole, portal and instead smile at the movie playing out in the looking glass and laugh at how far I’d come.
Congratulations, you’ve found a hidden clue to next week’s first installment of short stories (the first can be located somewhere in this vicinity). The winner gets a free year subscription and a handmade story-braid for their efforts. All’s ya gotta do is guess which minor arcana inspired the first part of the three-part stories, aptly titled “Passing Ships”.
