Another great storyteller once told me that a good story begins with the first lie you ever told.
Whether that is true or not, i recall back to kindergarten, on the swings. i was trying to test the myth whether one could swing fully up and around the swingset. in the height i acquired, i was asked by a fellow class mate who was watching me from below, "how did you learn to do that?!" without batting an eye, i replied, "oh, this is nothing! i grew up flying on eagles!"
my dad's jaw would have probably dropped at seeing a lie flee so effortlessly from his little daughter's mouth, but just like that, it did, as if i had believed it to be true myself.
i did not make it up and over the swingset. i also never had flown with eagles for those of you who are perhaps still trying to contemplate the wild enchantment of my childhood. but in my mind...the idea of freedom was such a core part of my yearnings and endeavors, that i still find it a driving force in where i derive meaning out of life.
this sky is a poem by hafiz, a great persian sufi poet. this is poetry passed down through my family through generations. during winter solstice, iranian families would gather for what we call 'koorsi' time, which basically means a giant cuddle puddle of loved ones family friends and neighbors. there would be a fire in the middle, and everyone would be under a sea of warm blankets, snuggled side by side. tea, treats, and story telling danced alive through the night as great aunties became skilled at pinching the rowdy and squirmy little ones with their toes under the discretion of the blankets (ame batool is notorious for this in the story that my dad tells so vividly).
it is tradition to stay up and read poetry by firelight on the longest, darkest night of the year. this poem has always spoken to me. perhaps it was my taking to birds and wings and freedom. but as i became older, i realized that it meant far more. i began to realize a balance between using my wings, and then giving others my wings. i existed a lot of my life giving others my wings, and it wasn't until i had fallen quite a ways, did i realize that i never knew how to use my wings so i gave them away.
my journey has been trying to find a way back to my wings, and in that journey i have begun to unravel the complexity of this sky where we live.
With all this talk about healing....
I have learned, more importantly, that you do not have to be "healed" in order to be powerful. In order to be whole. In order to be ready to do your life's work and calling.
If you have put off living, because you feel unworthy or incapable of living up to your potential because you believe you are broken and not yet 'fixed,' I feel your pain. But we can't live that way.
Because we will never be perfect. We will never be done with healing work. We will never be done learning.
Just like a chrysalis contains the blue print of the butterfly it will become before it even materializes, we also have everything we need to become our potential, which means that at any given moment, we contain every latent molecule, capillary and limb of our wholeness.