Sometimes I feel like I am alone in a ram-shackled dilapidated abandoned structure that was once a home but now feels like ruins. When I saw this picture, it felt like a match although my hair is brown and I usually don’t walk around in a white fomal dress, but the rest is pretty spot on. And it makes me wonder, where did these feelings of utter desolation come from. I cannot pretend to understand, but it is the karma that is etched in my DNA. Lately i have felt deep rage at God and the universe for leaving me alone with nothing but this, this feeling, that never seems to exhaust its persistence.
It is in these days of summer turning to fall and the deep dark empty nothingness that waits within the self in times of aloneness that I begin this post. These last days have been taking me to the core barrenness of the saddest moments on this planet, to the moments when I was left to die in a dumpster to the moments when I was barried alive in ancient Egypt to the moment when I died hanging in the air after the umbilical cord was ripped away prematurely and the lifetimes where my family or my tribe left me alone and I wandered for days and then died alone in the wilderness. It is the experience of noone coming back for me when I needed their return desperately. Each day alone feels like I am standing in a chasm that has no bottom, and yet this is my charge to fill this emptiness. And there are times when it begins to feel like it is filling, like passive circuits lying on the basement floor are beginning to find their way back together. It is almost like light strands on a Christmas tree whose fuses begin to spark and communicate again with the lights next to them on the strand, and then a thread of communication begins to wake up the whole strand. It is at these moments that it feels like the dark sea of aloneness is actually retreating.
It is hard to believe I have been swimming in these waters for nearly 37 years and still the darkness is so thick. It defies all logic. The designers of this game of separation consciousness really out-did themselves, and the special effects are really good. The invaders should win countless academy awards for their set design, costumes and script writing. I am not sure what moved me to begin writing this piece, but my heart and mind wanted to come into communion and put some words down on to this page and begin unburdening some of the many tangled thoughts inside. So I am doing just that.
My top-side life is mostly about finding a way to make it through the day. My husband is happy at work all day without me. He has his staff and his friends and his purpose while I have nothing, a whole lot of nothing, at least it feels that way. How can it feel so empty when I truly have so much. I just want to live in community where people have the resource of each other. Is that too much to ask? And yet, when I think of having someone else move in, I don’t get a yes to that either which leaves me to think that there is richness in this time alone. Is it possible there is something being invoked through this time of soul starvation, like a drought so severe that its agonizing call has the power to crack open the sky and bring the rain somehow. Tonight it is especially strong this inner rage at being alone. This feeling that God has let me down. Will it ever end? It feels bottomless in this now of 10-10-2020. I honestly don’t know what feelings and thoughts are going to spill out next. It is kind of like butternut squash as in no matter how much you sweeten it, that squash persists with its bland flavor. But tonight I did put enough maple syrup on it to make it palpable. What component of my life represents the maple syrup, and how do I get it onto the part of my life that feels so bland to the taste? Isn’t there meant to be more to life than this, so much more. I feel something is just about to explode into blossom just behind the curtain and still the barrenness persists at least for this moment which feels like it extends into eternity.
Sarah Hope Adams 