this past couple weeks i have been so tired... i can barely move about. i get up from my futon and travel the vast distance to my other nest. i struggle through the dry emptiness before me, befouled by human gas emanations, dragon breath, and sweat. it is a long painful journey as i try to stretch and set into motion arthritic joints, and  misaligned vertebrae. at last, i arrive and i sigh with relief, when i finally see my destination. Behold, my inner sanctum, my warm fluffy security blanket, my scentsy grogu- smells so good! my corner on the couch with a cushion that has been formed with a permanent imprint of my buttocks.

uffff, hair!!!

it is ok to laugh. you have my permission. you are welcome! 

gentle whisper

 

Why is it that there is a moment everyday when my mood just tanks? I feel the pressure in my chest and my stomach. I want to cry out, yet I do not… I dare not. I would not want to scare anybody around me.

Today I sense a paradox in me. there is an intense desire to commune with others who are of same mind, a profound desire to congregate with others whose sole desire and purpose is to glorify God. I do not need to make noise. I do not need a silly 20 minute exhortation on how to make life better, followed by more noise. Today I would not be able to abide the touching and hugging and “look at me/pay attention to me” behaviors. I am looking for that silent meditation, contemplation upon the manifestation of God’s glory; as the heavens declare the glory of God, and the skies proclaim the work of his hands (Ps 19:1). No words needed, no program, no show, only silence and expectation. My heart tells me that the Spirit of the Lord is there. The Spirit tells my spirit to sit, to wait, to expect.

Remember Elijah when he was in the cave?

The LORD said, "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by." Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. Then a voice said to him, "What are you doing here, Elijah? (1 Kings 19: 11-14)

I ask myself every day, “mirta, what are you doing here? What are you hoping to accomplish? The answer eludes me. I keep telling myself that I am in healing mode. I go through the motions: therapy, stretching, chiropractic, swimming, fasting, meditating, drawing, cleaning, cooking… wash, rinse, repeat. I even drive out to green spaces where I can connect with nature. Still, there is something missing. I can’t quite put my finger on it. I’m looking, searching. I don’t know what I’m looking for, but when I find it, I’ll know.

Meanwhile, I know that I am in the wrong body, not in terms of gender but in size. I am convinced that what I see in the mirror is not my true self. Once in a while I catch a glimpse of “me”. sometimes I see me in the gentle curl of a strand of hair, or when I stand on one leg firm and resolute; when my fingers curl around the pen to draw delicate lines; when my voice joins a
harmony in perfect pitch and tone.

 
I definitely see me when I am on my knees, in child’s pose, heart melting into the ground, forehead down, breathing slowly, staying in the moment, sensing the blanket of comfort that envelops in that moment, the peace, the quiet, the expectation that God is about to whisper something sweet over me. yes, that’s it! That’s what I’m looking for…