On my right to my life

Contemplation

The mud settles as I contemplate my right to my own life. Like a breath falling like a feather, eventually resting on the ground of my being.

All this stress about living other people's lives. Parents, society, ancients...

In my breath, I can let go. I can agree to their push yet move of my own movement. I can accept the weight, yet not crumble in front of it, but climb on top of its mountain and breath the pure air that I want in my lungs. And expel the pure sounds that I want to create.

How come I haven't known I was free to breathe? free to live? How come I can't fully relax? it's like everyone depends on me that I serve them, not me, not what's higher. They need me.

But what do I need?

Do I want to stay in this bondage? where is the air that I want to breathe, that is free from this pain and knot in my chest? where is this fresh stream that purifies everything in me, clear like a mountain stream of water, pure with light and nourishment from what's highest.

I am on the edge. For the others within me, it feels like jumping off a cliff. It feels like dying. They are bracing, they are screaming, thrashing my ribs and lungs. They can't let that happen. They need to survive through me.

Yet I'm not free. And they're not free.

So my head pops up and my gaze fixes on the inner horizon where waters meets the skies. I'm alone.

My shadows are behind me but I don't owe them anything.

I can settle in my own presence, my own being, my own self.

I can un-tether myself, be free of bondage.

I can even smile to them and reassure them: everything's gonna be fine, don't worry. I'm here for you too. You never wanted that toxic relationship either anyway.

So I pop up the cork and let my full presence, self and attention arrive and flood me.

And flood others.

I am free. I am shining. I am the sun and I am ablaze.