Nine months . . . how appropriate, the gestation period for my rebirth . . . the reconstruction of my verve and restoration of my passion.  Well, I must say this has been a bit of an adventure.  A very long time ago, I isolated myself from the world and most everyone in it.  I made my universe extraordinarily small.  It was stable and safe, but it did not nurture the best parts of me.  The more time passed, the more I realized I was losing touch with the last of that which truly made me distinctively myself. 

 

I had to make a choice.  Would I let the flickering flame go out and simply mourn the loss reconciled to live out the boring and unsatisfying, albeit secure and prudent, existence I had created?  Or would I fan the flame back to the roaring fire it had once been?  I didn’t know what might be lost to me forever and what I could bring back to life.  I had given up or locked away all the things that made me feel alive.  This did, however, effectively eliminated the “problems” that had plagued me as a direct consequence of being myself in the past.  Still, I missed me so much and was compelled to try to make a comeback.

 

Once the decision was made, I wasn’t sure what to do.  I knew I needed to reconnect with people in order to reconcile with myself.  I had to find a way to meet people outside of my tiny sphere of reality.  I have always been a very physical and sensual person.  That type of expression is natural, straightforward for me.  It being the first casualty in my battle to conform to normalcy, I figured, it was as good a place as any to begin the reclamation efforts.  Consequently, I started dating.

 

Maybe I just got lucky or maybe it was time for me to come back to life and any vehicle would have delivered me to my destination, but it didn’t take long to open myself back up to the world.  It was rather like a snowball racing down a hill growing as it flew along.  The recovery of my vivacity grew exponentially once the process was set in motion.  I didn’t do it alone though.  I engaged many people that impacted me and contributed to my reanimation in varying degrees.  Of course, there were a few that will remain always now a part of me.

 

One man awoke my sensual being.  His was the first man’s touch I had felt in many years.  He is an amazingly, sexual creature.  Nobody could have done it better or more appropriately than he.  I was unprepared for the intensity of the experience, but his enthusiasm and veracity allowed me to get back in touch with my body and an essential joy offered by this corporeal existence.

 

The next not only reached me in a physical way, but he enthused my mind, stirred my artistic spirit.  A dark man that I’m never sure I know what to think of, there’s no denying his gifts or intellect.  He was catalyst to regaining my creativity.  He teaches me much more than he knows.  A self-confessed know-it-all, he might even know more than he thinks.

 

Now I have met yet another man.  This one is all the best of those before him and at the same time unique in every way from anyone I have ever known.  He touches my body and stimulates my mind.  He makes me laugh and he inspires me.  He has enraptured my soul and his light warms me.  He seems to be one with whom I may learn to love again.  I hope so.  Regardless the outcome, he has gifted me with the knowledge that I am capable of loving another.  I wasn’t sure after all this time.

 

This life will be what I make of it.  The manifestations of this realm are simply the reflection of my soul’s health.  I see so clearly now the truth in reaping what you sow.  Like begets like and that which I choose to put out into the universe is that which takes up residence in the house of my life.  Always there must be a balance and I expect I have many hard lessons to learn yet, but I’ve made the choice not to hide or run away anymore.  Rather I wish to embrace my karmic fate, while still enjoying the pleasures and accepting the ecstasies this existence opportunes. 

 

Nine months . . . as with any birth, this is only the beginning.  I am once again myself and for that I am grateful.  Still, I have so much to learn, so much to see, so much to experience now that my reintegration has progressed such that I am truly connecting once more . . . body, mind and heart.  I seem to have reached a state where I’m not struggling within myself, but accepting the beauty of the moment.  With what little wisdom age has bestowed upon me, I wholly appreciate this wondrous grace of being.  I can hardly wait to see what growth of spirit awaits me through the good and ill yet to come.  Crazy?  Perhaps . . . but, alive!

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