Conversations with Auntie Cassie: I fell

I got down on my knees before my Auntie today. She sat in her old wicker chair waiting, and smiling. A twinkle in her eye letting me see all the wisdom inside. You could fit one thousand stars within her mind. She patted her lap and I crawled to her desperate for her validation. I lay my head on my hands placed upon her knee and in her curt voice she said, “Alright child, whatdya need?” I took two breaths and felt my heart heavy, thumping in its place, “Auntie, I fell yesterday and my spirit hurts so much.” She started to stroke my hair. I could feel the calluses on her hand as they passed over my ears, she had lived a life not too different from my own, but she had something I was seeking...solace from the cold. She was quiet for a time and I could tell what was coming was good cause she started to hum something she did before delivering some verb.

She asked, “Whatdya do after you fell?” I whipped my head up confused. What a funny question to ask. I looked at her confused and said, “Auntie I got up, and righted myself and moved forward like I was always told to do.” She gave a gentle knock on the top of my head and said, “Sure, you got up. You stood on both legs, you knew you had to move beyond the pain, but what about before that rise, as you lay on the ground trying to hold onto your pride? What did you do there on the ground in your broken state?” 

I wasn’t sure what she was asking. What could I have done? I was in between falling and anger. I needed to get up. People needed me and I couldn’t let them down so I stood right up and cursed the ground. “Auntie, I already told you I stood. Like I was taught. I didn’t dawdle, I didn’t whine, I stood up.”

This time she knocked a bit harder on the back of my head. Not hard but enough to let me know I was missing what she said. “Auntie,” I said grumpily, “what was I supposed to do? Just lay on the floor, like a stone, and not move.”

She laughed and said, “And what are you doing now? You’re before me still on the ground.” At this I was at an impasse with her wise grin. I laughed a bit and then I felt something within. It swelled like a great wave all through my chest. It made my lungs inflate rapidly and my throat constricted. And this vulnerability came over me. I felt helpless and small and before I knew it the tears broke past my walls. My Auntie wrapped me in her arms and got on the floor with me. “Never forget we need to cry. We need to detox the pain in order to stay on our feet. We have to surrender our pain in order to be free.”

I sobbed harder and felt rage swirl inside. This pain inflicted was not all mine. I had tripped over another who had fallen before me. “Auntie, why do I feel so much rage? I know the other person could not help falling, they had even tripped over someone before them.” She patted my hair gently and I cried until I couldn’t. Swollen and red my head hung defeated and she kissed my forehead and pressed hers to mine. “Don’t bury your anger. Anger is ok. Acknowledge that fire and if some is left over from such an event, I have just the answer to help free you from it. She walked into her den and returned with some ink. She said if you take that pain, that anger and mix them with love, compassion, and some ink,  your drawings will inspire love in others. Some might even be healed. That light of healing is a beacon for the lost and for those that are found it is a reminder to love. Create day in and day out and not just with ink but how you move, talk, love, sing, cry, and give. You don’t have to be great or create what’s expected just be you, rigorously honest without harm to oneself or another and walk the divine path you’ve chosen as an artist.