Life has had a perverse tendency to continously derail me this last year or two. It has been an ongoing barrage of curveballs, road blocks, potholes, dead ends, and do or die choices. I have labeled the last two years, individually, as "The Year of Fail," which started as a joke, but after two years it failed to be funny. At all. So, here I am in a whole new year, that I have vowed to be "2012, The year of Win." So far, it is a definite mixed bag, with far less Win than I would hope. It has been undeniably the roughest winter of my life, a Perfect Storm of Stress. I have been assaulted on all fronts with dramatic life changes, mental instability, nerves frayed raw, emotions beaten to a pulp, promises broken, trust betrayed, brutal self-analysis, self-vivisection of my very core of being, microscopic examination of my inner workings, rending of spirit, shattering of self-esteem, dismantling of Self, and finally the need for a total rebuild of Spirit, Ego, Id, Sanity, Security, Self Worth, Self Esteem, and Self. I have ridden the Hell Mare and come through scarred but not broken, burned but not beaten. I feel stronger today than I have in my entire adult life. Mentally, physically, spiritually, emotionally, I feel toughened, empowered and unbeatable. For the moment I feel free from the wreckage that my life had become. Free from baggage I should have discarded on the tracks years ago. But I do know that this sense of strength and freedom can be transitory, though I hope that it is not. Fervently hope it is not.
Today, I feel as if I am finally on solid ground, that the winds of change have calmed to warm, gentle breezes instead of the icy, hurricane force gales they have been. I have felt like a leaf being tossed randomly at the whim of the storm, settling momentarily with the hope that the storm is past, only to be snatched up and tossed about until I am dizzy, ill and tattered. It has happened time and again, for too many months to count, too many storms to factor, too many gales to measure. It has been exhausting and upsetting. Painful and destructive. But I do feel as if I may have finally settled myself calmly, peacefully onto a small patch of solid, stable ground. I can feel the energy of bedrock beneath my feet. Yes, I do have lingering doubts as to the reality of this sense of grounding, doubts fed by nerves made jagged from repeated, unexpected assaults on my tenuous hold on stability. Will I have the rug yanked from beneath me, again? Will a ghostly zephyr from my recent past gust through me and unsettle my hard won calm, again? Will my own chemstry betray me, again? Is The Perfect Storm truly over, or merely resting to regain strength for the next assault?
I have fought hard to find this patch of ground that feels rock-solid beneath my sore feet. I lay upon it, feeling the power of Earth against my cheek. I dig my fingers into the soil to reaffirm its solid reality. I embrace the very ground upon which I have found this momentary sanctuary. I will lay low, cling to the ground, and keep a low profile. If the gale force winds return, attempting to snatch me back into their cruel, merciless clutches, I will lay flat to the ground, feeling the Power of the Mother course through me, and I will let the winds blow harmlessly over my bare skin. I will become aerodynamic, letting the air flow as it will. If the wind does affect me it will be to lift me on new-found, powerful wings. My wings, hard won, and strong. The wind can lift me and let me soar, I may falter and tumble as I learn to fly, but I will not let the wind control me anymore. I am ready to fly.