The Place

In my mind there always existed this imaginary sort of place where everything was as I felt it should be... my personality, my home, my finances.  I felt it was the CORRECT place.  For EVERYONE.

In that place, there was neatness, organization, optimal health, classy style that attracted but didn't flaunt, beautiful and culturally sound arts, good music, smiles, a few pets and a garden.  There are people who have pieces of that place, and I spent a lot of time studying them, using scriptures to back up each step in my journey.

Organize yourselves, people!

I felt tense when I was around someone who didn't fit into my place.  If they were too loudly dressed or refused to smile or didn't till their own earth or didn't place what I perceived to be adequate importance on dust and stuff, I felt uneasy.  I felt the need to control my external circumstances.

And it turned out that the place -the place I had in mind and kept a firm eye on always -was a very lousy place.  The journey toward it was forced and tense and filled with chemicals and workout gurus who talked about abs like they were the point of my workout.  I was in a constant state of worry -I worried about other people -what they weren't doing, what they were doing, what they thought of my home and outfit and mode of teaching and serving and cooking.  

The Place was so shallow I couldn't SINK INTO ANYTHING REAL.

I started Recovery for me but BECAUSE of Danny.

Today I worked my recovery for me BECAUSE of me.

My last post was about progress -how I'd seen it in myself.  I knew typing it was risky.  Yesterday, I was hit with

LOOK you need improvement here.

LOOK you can improve here.

LOOK you just played the martyr.

LOOK you just made a decision motivated by control.

LOOK you are more worried about what others think than God.

LOOK you are triggered!

I came home from work, sat in the big, ripped up recliner that The Place had chucked far from it and prayed.

The recliner is situated right next to three big windows, though no sun shone through.  The day was overcast and grey.  My legs were covered in a big blanket.  As I sent up my plea to Heaven asking for I don't even know what, the sun came out.  It covered my body and I felt literal warmth.  My body relaxed and I fell asleep.

It was as if God reached through the clouds and commanded the universe to let me sleep.  I would open my eyes and they'd fall again.

I needed heavy, quiet sleep.

I woke up to My Place.  It isn't THE PLACE.

My house looks like the inside of my soul -cluttered, colorful, creative, and a little crazy.  

I don't believe My Place is for everyone.  This isn't hypothesis.  My Place makes other people uncomfy to the point of action.  People clean My Place a lot.  There isn't optimal health here, but there's a constant striving for truth about our bodies and the miraculous science behind them.  There's protein in the fridge and vitamins in the cupboard and yoga mats against the wall.  The point of the workout in My Place is truth, not abs.

As I drove to work today and snowflakes fell on my windshield, I was hit with God's ever-present passion for variety.

Nature varies beautifully -the desert holds a sacred kind of beauty I can't seem to even WANT to leave... the space, the air, it has nothing to hide, nothing to hold back.

Every snowflake is different, the prints on my hand are different than the prints of the hands that GREW inside of me!  The very waves on their hands were shaped and formed by the fluid my body created to protect them while they formed. The mountains in the distance that shot up in the horizon with no pattern, no symmetry at all.

Hair colors, eye colors, body colors.

Zebras, for crying out loud!  Can you get more varied than a white horse striped all over in black?  Or is it a black horse striped all over in white?!

I'm sure this is God's favorite riddle for the world.

I thought of Satan's plan -effective as it would have been to have make the choice that would bring us salvation, it lacks variety completely.

The Place was built sort of upon The Principle of Opposition.  One Way to Rule Us All!

But there exists in me a drive that goes BEYOND this life... a drive that existed before my fingerprints and hair color and passion for yarn... a belief that variety and choices is MY way.

My Place is simply that -Mine.

Because I've never had enough self-love to give validity to My Place, it has waited in a dark and dusty corner, shivering and ratty and patient.  I loved others more than myself, and others had Their Place.  I wanted that.  I wanted a Home Within.  Recovery has helped me dust it off, polish it up and start really setting up camp.

I started the process BECAUSE of Danny, and YES I was resentful as I polished.  Sometimes resentment gives me my very best grunt work performances.

But presently, I work on My Place BECAUSE of me and BECAUSE I love God and Jesus very much.  Very very much.  I loved Jesus before, but I didn't love Him with THIS kind of love -the kind of love that proves there IS A HEAVEN because THIS love is deeper than mortal love.  I can't wrap my mortal mind around what I'm feeling, you know?  It goes beyond romance, it goes beyond sibling love, it truly goes beyond anything mortal!  It's immortal intimacy.

Yesterday I talked about progress.  Today I'm talking about NOT PERFECTION.

My Place is a friggin' mess.  Probably forever.  But okay.

Today I did yoga with the mantra, "I awaken" and I added what came natural afterward.

What came natural?  Well, thank you for asking:

I awaken my true identity.

I awaken My Place.

I find I still lean toward others, longing for Their Place.  It gives me nothing but grief and a cleaner microwave.

Today I did some dusting in My Place.

I thanked God for others and their places, for what they all send out into the world -their gifts, their process of healing, their methods and magics.

And I practiced gratitude for the way I am -the open Alicia with all her ways and workings.

Then I logged on here and was vulnerable because although it makes other people squirm sometimes, I am vulnerable for a reason.  I've been chucking it down lately in the name of conformity which is just a fancy was of saying, "I'm scared."

I hope Your Place gets dusted today and that you're able to do something very Your Placey.  Like garden or spit or run or build or sketch or chart or wash or cry or dance or sing or rhyme.

Your Place has the potential to save lives, namely your own. It has the power to tap you into spirituality, health, serenity, and peace.  

For though our places are different, they share One common denominator:

GOD.

And where God is, so is a love of variety -within you is a deep and relentless passion for variety, for YOU and not HER.

Comparison is the thief of joy because it chips away at that core passion.

So here's to Places.  To our Zions within.

It takes a very real trek to get there, and you won't trade it for anything.