the blood of eden

in the blood of eden, we have done everything we can...

Peter Gabriel plays softly on my headphones. I can feel a slight breeze from an only-in-L.A. November evening, warm without being gross. What's not to like about a night like tonight?

I find myself in an interesting position these days. I'd never been much to reach out for help - a character flaw more than a strength, I think. But in my darkest days, I reached out and found more hands reaching back than I ever would have expected. People don't always realize how little moments can change everything. These days, improbable as it might have seemed to myself two years ago, I find myself one of those hands reaching out to my friends. This weekend, I found myself referring to my conditions with humor, with humility, and with truth. I used them as a way to let people feel less alone and to remind myself of how far I've come. I looked into a pair of ridiculously soulful eyes without fear and spilled who I was, who I am without bleeding or being the victim. I proceded to come home and had to rearrange (and rearrange again) my closet in color-order, re-stack some CDs and make sure the medicine cabinet was in order. I caught myself biting my nails twice. Progress and perfection are a long road apart, but no one said anything would be easy.

I told someone the following last. The full meditation didn't hit me until a day or so later: in my darkest moments, my trick is to think about everyone I love and name everything I love about each one of them. Then I say out, "And they love me back." I think of every reason they love me. And I realize that none of my reasons and none of theirs have anything to do with achievement or status or any of the superficial things any of us hate ourselves for. I love them because of who they are and they love me for the same reason.

what a moment this is...for a moment i'm forgetting...a moment of bliss...

I'm still a work-in-progress. I'm still me. And I'm more OK with that I've ever been.