The Garden

This is a journal entry I wrote on 11-28-2016.

     The garden where I stay. The garden that is me. The grass and leaves are a dark, delicious green that is perpetually healthy and moist but never cold.

     Looking at it from far up in the sky my garden resembles a sundial. There is one central circle of green, within which a slight golden haze breathes out. We’ll talk about that later.

     All around the circle are smaller circles of green bush. As you get closer and closer down the details become clearer and you see that the circles around the bigger one are in fact rooms. Alcoves.

     So that’s where I stay.

     In each of the rooms a different Self of mine has made a home.

     There is the Self that loves the arts. She is the one writing this today.

     There is the Self that dances, and wants to learn how to box. The Self that for so long fed on an anger and became deathly sick.

    There is a sensual Self that is really JUST beginning to understand her own existence. Her alcove is warm enough that very little clothes are required. She lounges on soft blankets and slides her flesh across silk and smiles. She often communicates with the Self that imagines. Now THAT one is a powerhouse all on her own. She is able to create entire scenes and histories and make them nearly substantial.

     There is a space for my child-like Self, the one who wonders at everything, her puffy afro bobbing up and down in the slight breeze.

     There is the Mother Self, the one who’s strongest motivator is to nurture.

     There are rooms and Selves I have not had the pleasure of meeting.

     But what’s most import important is what connects all of them. In the center there is a golden light that gets more solid the longer you look at it. This light spills out a little over the wall and it dusts the top layer of leaves. This light has a name, and that name is Purpose.

     Each of the alcoves have a little window through which Purpose can shine her way through. Some windows are larger than others. The one in Imagination’s room is practically a door!

     Sometimes when I have been hurt or depressed or just…unable to smile, it’s because the balance of Purpose has been made upset. And the Self has had to adjust and build a bigger window, which is always a painful process. But I believe that my path in life will lead me to eventually be rid of the walls between my Selves, and the walls between the alcoves and Purpose.

I believe that at some point I will find myself in constant connection to all my parts and stand firmly in Purpose.


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