Cold

I am cold, and I don't want to be cold. My feet are cold, my hands are cold, my body is cold. I am bitten from the inside out by this strange feeling of emptiness that keeps me hungry but also makes me nauseous about food. IE LIFE makes me nauseous and hungry at the same time. It kills the thoughts that threaten to whisk me into the full embrace of life, but it also creates them in infinite degrees of speed, as if there were no way to stop them, even by killing them. It seems to me the thoughts that keep me alive divide at an excessive rate as compared to those that want me dead. But  I am still cold.

My muscles in my right leg/buttocks are in pain, and I feel trapped in this body yet again. I feel short, powerless, floppy and flabby, held in. I feel like an invisible bodice, a waist cinching metal flask of a corset is clinging to me. I feel as if it is in my mind, and there is no escaping it becuase it resides within me. Perhaps it's not about escape. Perhaps it is about loving it from the inside out. But how? How does one love something one detests so? How does one learn to love the very thing that oppresses and causes one to be distraught and saddened? Where is the instruction manual for that? Especially when it does not look like what the world wants to love.

The outside, that is fine for the world to love, even though it does not. It detests the body, it seeks to change it and alter it. How do I find my happy medium in a world full of such detestable images and demons all around? Oh, I feel as if I should be dying right now, but it is life that is being breathed through me. Why?? Why is this the very light that threatens to darken my moon, the eclipse of the night when it is absolutely pitch black in the day. What that means I don't know.

I wish to stop doing all these things I continually do, as if the flowers blooming every spring and dying every fall were too much. The splotches on my stomach a sign of the eating of my flesh by this world, the disgusting, mangy, slobbering world that tears at the very fibers of my watery being. I feel as if I'm floating in water, for water over my head drowns me, but it is weightless at the same time. Space is the same. Too high and too low, these are killers, though we may find a way to manage. The earth, the exact middle is where we live more fully. Where we can enrich the soil and till and do do do do do do. And yield results.

Oh how I long for the day in which what I do only glorifies, only spreads love, only is majesty to His name, and that I don't even think about my own glory, my own being noticed, my own desire to be less flaky, less disconnected, less selfish. I don't want to be aware of that desire anymore, I want to simply throw myself into worshiping Him by loving others and myself as one. But the divisions are so great, the waters are too wide, the sky is too deep. I am too lost.

Too much. What does that mean to God. His too little is my too much, and therefore I can watch what I speak to Him, for His words are my whispers, the very voice of God is my screaming, unhearable noise. Let it be that He is made great in this madness. Oh the madness is so unbearably bearable. Let it be more than bearable, let it be living, let it be truth, let it be His life coursing through us, let the belief grow stronger each day until it is daily fighting the battles without the intentions being hammered out one by one. Let the intentions flow together and act as one in the being of me and of the surrounding humans in this life I see around me. Let them reflect this idea of Living alive.

Please, Jesus. Amen.