Cold.
It's like this.
This is my destiny.
To have and to hold pain.
Constant, unimaginable, relentless.
Disease and discomfort, broken dreams.
Autoimmune~ my own body attacking itself.
Embracing this suffering and these moments of loss.
Afraid of the fact that I am looking on craigslist for a wheel chair.
But again, the trust that I have in the universe is overflowing and bright.
This is what is best for me, for you, for this world, so beautiful and so mysterious.
I imagine my temple, my body, buried in the ground, from where it came, and I see myself
Standing high above, gazing upon it with thankful eyes for bringing me to the exact place that I belong.
Friends, if you read this please smile because I am in really good hands.
"Yet if I have no pain, I'll never long for freedom"
-Shantideva
