Yogi Year

Its been a distressing start to the year. With my mother passing away suddenly yet peacefully, i’m assured I can only now after three weeks begin to breathe.
My mind has been dormant, healing.
Fractured. My heart and mind, mimic and mourn what otherwise I feel should have been. Something that was precious, was from me taken. And I wasn’t even there.
I am wracked with guilt and anger. Lost again, and only just now trying my legs at walking towards a path that may bring about healing. To occupy my being.
To rejuvenate and replenish against the trauma, and barren desolation that swept through my life. How fragile. So like jelly. This arrowhead has embedded itself.
I see inside myself and worry about nothing else.
Knowing that ultimately its I that can be the only one to reach in, acknowledging the pain and remove it. Nothing here needs to be pushed through, the procedure is foreign as I wish it always stayed.
I believed myself armoured against all of this. But my casing was soft where I attribute love. I value family, I prize the caring company, my upbringing. The selfless acts that bore my flesh as both blessing and curse into this world.
And I will always hold this inside myself.
The good and the bad. And I will flow like water. Unknown toxicity, a risk to bear for all. To threaten one it to threaten all.
More and more, deeper and deeper the head penetrates.
My own mind rattles. Body weak. Heart pumping at a lost cause.
But my exterior endures. I will hold this, like all other things. For the time being in my hands, slowly my self-embrace, won’t be necessary. My arms by my side, process having passed I’ll be able, wizened to help, advise and guide others. And this I look forward to. To being the cynic and wise man. But now I bleed and seethe.
But my direction is coming clearer now.
The mist parts. The people lose their question-mark heads.
And I will explain and hug freely.
Give love and exclaim.
Direction again at last!
Out of mystery,
Welcome mastery.

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