I would rather have run fast & far away to a place where I could not hear her screams when he beat her, but the responsibility to take care of her became mine when she decided not to. My responsibility to try & understand when she could not explain & mine to figure out how to live a childhood of hollow play & laughter in a little body weighed down by a heart not given the option of innocence.

Restraints of responsibility caused rebelious ripples of reckless irresponsibility for the longest time to tear through my life & when a new little life accidently grew in my womb, the responsibility weighed so heavy, unbearable for what if I in yet another careless & possibly defining moment would take your innocence, break your heart & leave you with a tear in your soul? And the price for my recklessness became the responsibility of deciding that this life was not to be lived.

When the tear in my soul made it impossible for him to be allowed to love me, to find his way through the ring of barbwire wrapped around my heart and I did not dare, did not know how to let anyone love me, I took his innocence, his belief that love conquers all & the belief that he was loved. Loved like I did not know I could & loved like I did not know how to show.

Moments defined me, laid the fundament for an existence, hid the little girl so far away that I could not hear her calling. And it became my responsibility to find her anyway & love her like she has never been loved. To reverse time, live a life in an old soul longing for innnocence with a heart so broken it is left wide open.. & my responsibility to forgive, to understand how to let go of the unforgiveable & maybe forgettable to live to be young & wise.

A secret is safe with me, I will not betray someone's trust in me. On the other hand, I am no priest and me no like when being aquired to be someone's conscience. The kind of secret where I am told the truth and others are lied to. I won't tell, but if I'm asked directly, I won't lie either. I can't lie. It hurts my integrity and I guess this means that I'm not really a 100% safe bet in the keeping a secret department.

I have an ambivalency towards secrets. Esp the dark ones, the ones kept under lock, not told because they come from a place of fear, shame and or guilt. And sometimes I feel it is the truths never told that are the most telling. The things staring you in the face although no one ever put words on it. The secrets we keep from ourselves about ourselves in the attempt to keep a part of us hidden from others as well.

I know those kinds of secrets are kept with the best of intentions, it is a way to protect ourselves. And the paradox is that it is in the hiding that vulnerability is created and the fear, shame and guilt becomes ever so persistent. A dark secret will eventually start nibbling on corners of one's soul, casting shadows, making it harder not to say impossible for the light to shine through.


That said, I do have a secret. I have a secret garden filled with sacred flowers where each flower represents a part of me, all grown from the same seed which is the core of my being. I cultivate my garden carefully and lovingly and sometimes I add flowers from other seeds too. They are flowers in my heart, wonderful beings that help me shine my light by telling their truth, sharing themselves with me.

I smell the flowers, marvel at the mere sight of their beauty and share the lil bundles I get to pick. This is a special secret, a sacred one that cannot be told. It is still unfolding and I don't even know for sure if there is an end to the unfolding. I just have to wait and see and the suspense has me tickled giggly.

What would I do when facing an upcoming unknown..that's kinda contradictory isn't it? If I knew about an upcoming unknown, wouldn't it cease to be unknown in the first place or could this be getting into flies fucking? I better go grap what seems to be right in my face like fx the rest of my life which supposedly is coming up. At least that's how I like to think of it. That one, I breathe into, a moment at a time, basking in the reality of change, jumping up & down with joy because I know that I do not know.


As such, it is not possible to prepare for the unknown. If trying to do so as an experiment of the mind, based on speculating, analyzing, thinking & presuming that one knows what will happen next. And the reason for doing so might just be based on fear of living..sure as heck ain't for the love of the moment. And yes, that kinda experimenting would rather likely make one tend toward anxiety & stress. Now, I could blabber on about this subject for the longest time if it weren't for the next unknown coming up.. yep, the sound of impatient lil toes tapping in the background is this moment getting in my face, eagerly awaiting me to get on with it. Besides, anything I could possibly come up with on the topic has been said already.. here's one I esp like:


Intelligent Practice always deals with just one thing: the fear at the base of human existence, the fear that I am not. And of course I am not, but the last thing I want to know is that. I am impermanence itself in a rapidly changing human form that appears solid. I fear to see what I am: an ever-changing energy field. I don't want to be that. So good practice is about fear. Fear takes the form of constantly thinking, speculating, analyzing, fantasizing. With all that activity we create a cloud to keep ourselves safe in make-believe practice.

True practice is not safe; it's anything but safe. But we don't like that, so we obsess with our feverish efforts to achieve our version of the personal dream. Such obsessive practice is itself just another cloud between ourselves and reality. The only thing that matters is seeing with an impersonal spotlight: seeing things as they really are. When the personal barrier drops away, why do we have to call it anything? We just live our lives. And when we die, we just die. No problem anywhere.

I can't say for sure about any other possible scenarios, well obviously, since I'm still here. All I do know from experience is that allthough my survival instinct is strong, I have also instinctly thrown caution to the wind in a heartbeat with no thought of whether there would be a next, to put my life on the line to save another's. I quite like that paradox.

I love life, every precious changing, impermanent moment of it. Life itself is eternal & mine is but a lil bit of stardust twirling about like a parenthese in eternity. So is dying, something like skipping a breath for the longest time.

And the not so litteral, as in giving up my life aka not living it to the fullest?  - nothing.
And what would my feelings be around those answering in reverse? - as long as it is a concsious choice, accept & a lil sting of sadness thinking about those who live in fear of living.


i used my best quote on living & dying the other day, but I think this dude got a point too: