I am Pro Life

How many mistakes can one human make in a lifetime?

How many mistakes can I make in dealing with the mistakes that I make?

hello darkness my old friend

I stopped talking. 

When did I become silent?

When did I decide to isolate myself? 

When did I stop breathing?

Why, when all I have worked for these last few years was to live my life out loud? It didn’t make sense. 

Yet, that non sense was the life I strived for every day.  There my dichotomy stared me in the face.  That wolf gritting it’s heart against the howl that would inevitably follow.

 

 My fear of judgments or persuasions that might {possibly} sway my truth pulled a dense fog into my valley of pastoral serenity.   I knew what I wanted.  I knew my own heart, my own mind.  The answer was already inside me.  Still I needed time to wander, to drown in the depth of all of my choices.  I know I can breathe underwater.

I must be a mermaid.  For I have no fear of depth, only shallow living. ~Anais Nin

And so I did.  I broke two teeth on that truth.

I am no badass.  

I never said I was tough.  

I am not invincible.  

I am vulnerable, raw.  

Heart on my sleeve like a wet, red stain.  

Susceptible to every piercing arrow, every silence. 

Driving down dirt roads.  Dust hung heavy in the air. Wind rustled through trees and it sounded like wild rain.  But when those planes fly down low through the trees and shoot their arrows straight into my throat, I pull them out. 

Afraid.  But unhurt.

Divorced. Single.  Mother. 34. Old enough to know better.

The labels swirled like band aids around me in a vortex. At any moment I could have reached out to grab one to salve my shame.  But each one brought with it another shame in weakness for not accepting my reality.

Pro life.  Pro choice.

Pro heart. Con logic.

My poor heart.  How many times must I disappoint you?

When you want something, the whole universe conspires to give it to you.  Are you ready?

Ready or not here it comes.

I could have been her.  A helpless victim.  One to be pitied. 

Or a  warrior with strength in a vice grip wielding away another kind of happiness.  

 Another me.  Another happiness.  Another life.

The universe has given me an immense gift. 

 One that I believe in with all of my heart.  I have felt it since the moment of conception.  But my soul tells me that this is the ultimate challenge.  Not to fly in the face of nature.  But to choose for myself a different life.  In choosing to not accept the gift, I am choosing to accept a release.  A closure.  A definitive cleansing of the past and end to the karma.

Babies.

They are entirely fantastic.  The scent of sweet soft skin.  Downy hair. Suckling lips latched down in exquisite pain as nourishment is passed from one being to another. Maternal mammalian bond creating the ultimate circle of life.  Dear universe, you know full well there is nothing more I would love in this life than to have another baby in my arms.  But I also know that this is the ultimate test.  What am I willing to do for my new life?  What am I willing to sacrifice?  What work am I willing to do to break the karmic cycle of my past life.

I choose life.  I choose me.

I know that it is only in getting everything I ever thought I wanted and losing it that true freedom is found.  Freedom to create a life I want, instead of being held back from being who I really am out of fear. 

The first few days after I saw that double pink line, that double positive test, I was surprised at how unsurprised I was.  I had known.  I knew it from the moment of conception.  A true Aquarius, I know my body very well.  From the first twinges, to the fluorescent yellow morning pee.  Sore breasts, and implantation bleeding that came on the perfect number of days before my menstruation was set to start on the full moon.  Fuck.  I was fucked.  Literally and figuratively.

Not surprise gave way to avoidance.  

I never wished to be a statistic more in my life.  Is it true 70% of all pregnancies end in miscarriage?  The rates drop considerably after implantation, to 30%.  I still had a chance.  Every time I went to the bathroom I checked for blood, craving cramps hoping for an early miscarriage.  I felt unholy.  I felt dirty.  I felt immense shame to hope for one life’s death, so that I might live.

What of karma?  I was still struggling with another karmic circle and was paralyzed with fear to consider another karmic debt I would have to pay.  I was too ashamed to ask friends or family for advice.  Too shamed to burden them with my mistake.  This is exactly what I did not want in my life anymore. 

Circumstances too big to talk about.  Isolation grew my shame… again.

There was only one way through this.  I had to face the fact.  Face the reality.  Face my life, in order to decide my fate and that of my growing baby.

I looked at naked body in the mirror.

I rubbed and loved my growing belly.  My swelling breasts.  
I was pregnant. 
That growing life is a gift, I could never deny.

I laid down to have a talk with the spark ignited inside of me.

I closed my eyes.

I rubbed my palms together in front of my forehead, raising my vibration.

Deep exhale of any and all breath, until I feel the energy circle my toes.

Behind closed eye lids I can see my purple energy swirl and escape out into the universe.

I’m sorry.

I love you.

I’m sorry.

I love you.

This is my life.

This is your life as well.

We both deserve dharma.

We both deserve to choose something better for ourselves.

Our futures are inevitable.

But we are given the blessed option right now.  Right here. To stop punishing ourselves.

To choose to learn the lesson and accept our fate and put an end to the karmic circle.

Together, we can choose life.

In that moment, I knew.

We were acknowledged.

We were in agreement.

We had each others  respect and blessing.

We were one.

We were loved.

That this came on a full moon and Lammas, a time of release and of sacrifice is no mistake.

"For carnivorous cultures, the autumnal hunts and the slaughter of the herds was bloody. The ritual hunt of the King Stag ensured the return of Summer, and the turning of the Year. The annual cull of the herd cleared the old to make room and resource for the new. One thing is necessarily given to gain another. That is why people always would sacrifice the most beautiful, healthy, whole animal of their herd—that is how badly they wanted, and what they were willing to give, for next year’s fertile harvest."

Laura Miller says, "Sacrifice is something we resist. It is a difficult, unpopular theme to come to terms with in our modern mindset. We are encouraged, both in capitalist consumer culture and also “magically” by books like The Secret, to think that we can have everything all at once. Even though we know that, linearly, that is not true. Older, more mature and magical cultures than ours, actually understood this.

Sometimes, in order to have something that you love, you have to give up something else that you love. 

It is giving something up to a cause larger than yourself, without being quite sure what, if anything, you will get back in return. In sacrifice, there are no guarantees. There is no real sacrifice if you know the resolution."

This is the depth of my sacrifice.  This is the best I can offer.

all my life for all my love