Being a Bird
I was a tiny, gray bird. My instructor was with me, but I couldn’t see him. I asked questions. “Why am I gray? When will I know what color I will be?” He explained, “Your color will show itself as you grow and mature.” I then watched, as if an observer, a little gray bird. I saw one feather at a time begin to change color. They turned black. I was disappointed. I wanted to be blue, not black, but I accepted the color black. I asked, “But how do I survive? How do I keep from being caught? Caged?” I was told, “You have to listen. Hide when you need to hide. Fly when you can.” I saw the tiny bird flying and then hiding in the trees. It was not caught or caged.
I then saw a small, brown monkey. It ran in front of me and jumped into a nearby tree. “Why can’t I be a monkey? I like how he can climb and play in the trees. I can’t do that.” My teacher said to me, “Observe him and you will have your answer.” I saw that that the little monkey was foolish and did not think before he acted. Though he was free to play and climb, he sometimes fell and when he fell he would hurt himself. He did not have wings. He could not fly. I could fly.
A Conversation with My Ex
I was in a bar. The lights were low and I could see young people milling about. I heard no music but there was plenty to drink.
People kept staring at me. I don’t know why. I somehow knew this was a place where people hooked up for one-night-stands. A man tried to hook up with me and I was in agreement but when it came to the sexual act he told me, “Do it yourself.” I looked at him like he was nuts. He walked away and left me alone. I didn’t know what to do. Then I realized I had no interest in myself.
I noticed a man from across the room. He was sitting with a young, dark haired woman and a couple of other guys. I knew they were affiliated with the military. As I got closer, the dark haired woman sent me her entire history, of how she made the mistake of being sexually promiscuous and was struggling with the repercussions of it. I sent back a reply in thought, “You only made choices, not mistakes.”
I finally was able to talk with the man who had drawn me across the room. It was my ex-husband. He looked older and very tired. I could see deep worry lines on his face. He had also gained weight.
I sat down and we had a long conversation about his life and current emotional state. He kept bringing up his two tours in Iraq and how tired he was. His back hurt, his digestion was messed up, he was always tired. He blamed it all on Iraq. He mentioned flying and how he was even losing his perfect eye sight. Flying is his passion, so to not be able to fly really upset him. I asked if he could wear glasses and he said it was not allowed in the military. I remember thinking it was a good thing, then, because then he wouldn’t be asked to go back to Iraq.
I listened and he talked. I felt very bad for him. I remember that when we together he often complained about life in the same way. His body was always giving him trouble. He was often tired and worn out. I remember holding his hand. That was my role when we were together, too – to hold his hand, listen and be his friend. He hated being alone yet he was now learning that one can be alone even when surrounded by family and friends. He was finally realizing that life is more than achieving physical life goals, acquiring material possessions, and having a woman/wife. All this had not fixed his discomfort. He didn’t know what to do. I didn’t offer advice, though. That was/is not my role. He wouldn’t listen to me anyway. lol
I was laying on a table and someone was affixing two large, metal braces to my body. I remember one being put along the entire length of my side. It was metal and screwed into me. I felt no pain. I knew that I had to be stabilized in this area.