and i say...

Last night, I said some things to someone so deeply rooted in fact and intuition that...well let's just say it got her back up. Spine military-straight with indignation. Because you see...I spoke truth.

Folks don't want to hear that shit. They say they do, but they really don't. And it's funny to me, how they seek my advice. Want me to "do the cards" and shit. But when I choose to read them, my words often have the effect of sandpaper on skin, sloughing off that layer of self-delusion and superficial concerns and getting right to the point. I've told them what they needed to hear, not what they wanted.

I'm not the one to give you validation so that you may continue along your well-trod circular path. I'm the chick that was chosen to set an example for those that have trouble seeing the way. Born knowing all the right things to say; well-versed in ego-massaging techniques. But no longer do I choose to use those particular skills. These days I'm on some fuck maintaining...when is you gone elevate? type shit.

And people...don't really know what to do with me.

The thing is, when I say the things I do, it's typically with love. Sometimes, when asked for my opinion, I have to fight the vertigo; feeling as if one misstep will send me tumbling into the muck and mire and half-truths. Eternal mother, I almost want to protect you from what I will say; especially when knowing you're probably not prepared for the impact. But what kind of mother would I be if I didn't push you...not onward but upward?

So don't speak to me about how I'm so blunt and so mean...as if you don't know that I third-eye looked into you. Saw a soul encased in skin greasy and pockmarked with fear and insecurity. Weakness so intense as to almost be infectious because...misery loves it some company.

What if you knew you held the cure for spiritual illness...right on the tip of your tongue. Would you pass it on?

I would. And I do, because I care enough to want you not merely existing but living. Want you up here with me, where things are laced with clarity so intense that I almost want to close my eyes against the brightness and goodness and rightness of it all, but can't. Visually addictive. It's so different here. Even the ordinary becomes a wonderment.

I am duty-bound to share.

So even though I sometimes vow to leave the people I care about to their own devices, I probably won't be washing my hands of them anytime soon. Can't ignore one's purpose forever.

And I know mine is to move. You.

Posted by Lisa at January 21, 2007 02:59 PM