Sometimes I wonder what it would be like
to evaporate into the air,
transform into a molecule of oxygen and join the rush of wind
as it enters my house through an open window,
flowing past me in a wave of ecstasy,
before rushing out again.
I wonder what it would be like to fly,
to feel the coolness of the breeze and the warmth of the sun at the same time.
But not just to feel the breeze,
to be the breeze,
leaving everyone I pass in a state of bliss.
I wonder what it would be like to feel my own self so fully,
my own little universe in my own tiny molecule,
but also, to be a part of something greater than myself,
the collective expanse of air that makes up our atmosphere.
I wonder what it would be like to fly through the world,
and go anywhere I wanted,
not rooted to any spot,
not bound by the limitations of geography
or the human body.
I wonder what it would feel like
to own this world.
All my life I have felt unanchored,
adrift at sea,
in a way that disturbed me when I was growing up.
The fact of the matter is,
I’m still growing up.
I used to spend each day
trying to figure out why I felt this way,
why I couldn’t feel at peace in the security of my family,
the walls of my house,
knowing that I was loved
knowing that I was taken care of.
Why wasn’t that enough for me?
Now I’m starting to think
I was never actually meant to cling to anything so tightly in the first place.
I was meant to be free,
I just never understood how.
Why would I want to hold on so fiercely to things,
to concepts of home,
that are all just constructs of my imagination,
none of them permanent?
No matter how precious they are to me,
I have no control over any of them.
In fact, I have no control over anything.
And that’s why I need to learn to be okay
with just being that free-floating molecule of air,
whether I’m lying stagnant on a hot summer’s day
or whipping about in a fevered frenzy,
or even being thrown from one side of the world to the other
in what feels like a catastrophic storm.
I have no control over what happens in this world.
So why am I trying to grasp so fervently onto what are,
reassuring and ephemeral,
beautiful yet banal.
I need to learn to let go.
I need to learn to let go
and just enjoy the ride.
Maybe then being unanchored will feel more like freedom.
I am larger than what my body allows me to be.
I am a force of nature, bursting at the seams,
as if I’m trying to get out,
not out of this world, mind you,
but, out of my body.
I’ve always known that there was something precious inside me –
inside all of us –
but for years, I hid it away like a dirty secret
under all these layers of my own making
and now that I’m trying to strip away those layers
and tear down those walls,
that sparkling and buoyant Being is expanding inside of me.
It wants to grow larger than humanly possible.
It wants to bend reality and challenge the limits of my imagination.
It wants to break free,
as if this combination of body and mind is some kind of prison,
but it’s not.
At least, it doesn’t have to be.
It’s only a prison if I allow it to be one.
It’s meant to be a vessel that I borrowed for a short time
which will help me experience what it’s like to be human,
to experience pain and pleasure and everything in between
the way only a human can.
But this growing Being inside of me
isn’t quite content with this arrangement.
It wants to be free.
Of what, I’m not sure.
How can I be both a human of this world,
and a Being far harder to describe, from some other world,
at the same time?
One foot here and one foot there.
How can I be in two different places at once,
two different beings in one?
Please help me
to be both human and spirit at the same time,
to find the balance to float freely between worlds,
as seamlessly as the wind blowing in and out of my window.
Please help me to unanchor myself from my limited understanding of the world,
and to be okay with it.
I long for the truth,
but I don’t need to know it all,
at least not yet.
Please help me let my Being evolve as much as it can,
even if that means it grows larger than the confines of my body,
as enormous as the Earth itself,
as inexhaustible as the universe.
Who says I can only be a human who exists inside the universe?
Why can’t I be something greater?
Something shiny yet invisible, full yet free, everywhere and nowhere at once,
with the universe inside of me?