Thyself

Beginning in early childhood, I dove into the concept of ‘love thy neighbor’ without pausing to consider the ‘as thyself’ part.

Oh man, have I been cruel to myself.

The aftershocks of my self-inflicted Earthquakes are off the Richter scale, as illustrated by my harried nervous system and visibly exhausted body.

For most of my life, I’ve treated others the way I wanted to be treated without stopping to see how I was treating myself, or letting myself be treated by others.

Embodying a doormat, I didn’t realize that I had anything to do with the avalanche of abuses I endured.

Who ordered this truckload of dung, indeed.

Now I understand that I am worthy of healthy love, and I am my sole source of self-love.

Being both self-taught and a late bloomer, this will require careful cultivation and consistent effort.

At least effort and I are old friends.

Though it feels unnatural and shameful to allot resources to myself, I must begin, and begin again.

I feel remorseful when I think of the kindness I denied myself while simultaneously over-giving to others, lighting myself on fire so that they might be warm.

I feel hopeful now that I am starting to practice self-kindness. Simply thinking about loving myself is a huge step on my healing path.

I know that the treasure I seek lies in the cave I fear to enter.

Removing toxic relationships might lighten my load, and would likely be worth the temporary albeit intense discomfort incurred by uprooting.

Yet I remain like a stubborn ox, cursing my burden as I remain willingly yoked, feeling hopelessly bound by the pressure to live up to social expectations.

The cave I fear to enter echoes with judgmental whispers.

‘Through this action, I practice self-love’ is mantra. May I hear it above the voices of those who might object. May I repeat it even as my voice trembles and cracks. May I remember that those who matter don’t mind, and those who mind don’t matter.

May I keep moving forward even when left in the dust by the turtle and the snail.

May I hold myself tenderly in lovingkindness, no matter what I have done or will do.

May I rest in peace in this lifetime, in moments such as this one.

Out of the Closet

What if we are all so closeted that we do not allow ourselves to know ourselves?

This may make you balk, but hear me out.

Who among us has not admired a physical attribute of the gender we haven’t habitually spent time in bed with?

Who can deny beauty?

What if we each stepped out from our usual hiding spots, the social roles we were groomed for without our consent?

What if we acted upon our misery and tried something radically different today?

I dreamt that a student of the romance languages asked me if a word was masculine or feminine.

I leaned toward them with a knowing smile and whispered, ‘It is a little known secret that everything is both masculine and feminine.’

Now you know.

Stranger

City full of edges

Teetering on ledges

Peering over concrete hedges

Struggling to get wedges

Shifty eyes, we fear our shadow

Our imaginations animate demons and damnations

We are our greatest danger

When to ourselves we are a stranger

Workaholic

I went into medicine partly due to heartbreak

The exhaustive training of medical school and residency was a welcome albeit ineffective distraction from my sorrow and loneliness

24-hour shifts are a convenient justification for not keeping in touch with loved ones

Even though the real excuse is my social anxiety and sense of inadequacy

Living within hospital walls, I suspect that I am not the only physician who became a medical doctor to try to forget unrequited love, to escape the world of human relationships

My older colleagues work far more than they need to to make ends meet, far more than any reasonable person would work in a week

Who needs friends or feelings when you have patients and science?

Our skin grows pale under fluorescent lights

Our vision becomes shortsighted as the screens stare unblinkingly

Our hearts forget how to feel carefree

Our muscles atrophy as our brains hypertrophy

Our minds become boxed in with facts, our mental filing cabinets overflow

I am a recovering workaholic working alongside workaholics who do not appear to be in recovery

Perhaps they suspect the same of me

Heads down in the trenches, none of us can know another’s heart

We can only know our own heart, if we listen

We carefully administer medications, surgeries and therapies

We measure progress in numerical metrics of lab values, calculated scores and vital signs

We arrive early and stay late

We work day and night without a break

We always have too much on our plates

We deprive ourselves of sleep, fresh air and food

We know why we have irritable moods

Practicing medicine is an unhealthy, imbalanced lifestyle and we know it

We can only ever heal ourselves

I’m ready to show it

I am finally healing my broken heart

I found that I had to begin at the start

Childhood wounds tangle and bloom

Trauma begets trauma until we change our thoughts, words and actions

Breaking old patterns even as we hold traction

I am love itself, I am the source of what I sought

My cup overflows, it was not all for naught

Labor Pains

Give birth to your best self, America

Painful, messy, terrifying, raw

The most beautiful transformation you’ll ever see

America, you’ve been gestating too long to stop now

Humanity is bursting from your loins, America

Born of the brutal rape of racism

Blood spills on the ground

Fertilizing the soil from which you spring forth

You cannot go back to the way you were, America

You can only keep pushing forward

I am learning to listen to my heart, America

Though the change may not be obvious to you yet

Subtle shifts below the surface move mountains, America

I change my thoughts to change my life

Though the echoes of your trauma are deafening

Though the jaws of your mental imprisonment clamp down hard around me

I no longer strive to be your wounded warrior

I am your healed child, here to show you how to heal yourself

Even though you broke my heart so early and often that you left me without a sense of self

Yet my heart kept on beating

And loving

That is how you heal

Keep on loving

Love yourself, love your life, love your fellow beings and the whole Earth as yourself

Forgive yourself and others

Be kind to all, for we are children on a difficult journey that wouldn’t be so damn difficult if we were kind to each other

Pay it forward and see what happens

Love and kindness and forgiveness is the way

America is having labor pains today

I welcome your birth America, your infinite potential

You suffered so much hate that you became a hater but it is finally time to love, America

Love Languages

If you want to show me that you care about me

Be gentle

Be non-judgmental

Don’t bully me or pressure me, manipulate me or coerce me

Don’t try to imprint your paranoid delusions on my mind

Don’t ever tell me what to do, when, or with whom

Control is not my love language

My love language is freedom

Acceptance

Shining light in darkness

Healing and growth

Leaning through the veil of illusion

Not argumentative protrusion into the autonomy of others

You asked me if you were ‘other people’ to me

Absurdly

Like a child wailing from ego injury, I reassured you that you were special, that you are important to me. You are, but for different reasons than you think you are.

Though we are separate, we are also not separate

We are one spirit

You have forgotten

May you remember

Until then, you babble on

Rambling brook

Carrying messages in bottles

Smashing against the rocks of my enlightenment

If you want to win the game, you have to play

To play, you must be playful

Stop making everything so serious, so grave

Stop pretending that you care about oppressed people

As you actively oppress me

You shout for the voiceless, marching with your fist in the air

As you silence my voice without a care

If you care about me, let me be myself, let me live my life

You have your own life to live, your own love language of anger and jealousy

To communicate, we must learn each other’s languages

I think I’m learning your language of anger when I want to shout at you, ‘Leave me alone, I’ve always wanted you out of my life, I’ve had enough of your abuse’.

I refuse to be controlling and jealous like you.

Perhaps you will learn my language and say, ‘I accept you as you are without judgment, I love you unconditionally, I support you as you follow your heart’