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I try not to think about my body being a vessel, even though I believe it is true. The body ‘I’ inhibit will somehow, one day, fail to the point of no return (death), and the ‘I’… well I don’t know what will happen to that. This leads to the thought: Best not to think about it. Unfortunately, or fortunately there are times when I can’t avoid this kind of thinking. 2020 has brought this on in full force. Last week I had to change my POD (paid upon death) on my bank account. At my age, this is death in a freak accident, but still, I sign a form and the person who gets my fortune (ha.) changes in a moment. Looking at the edocument with my jagged initials signed via my track pad all I could hope for was that it need not be opened for long while. The other side of this vessel-talk is that I can consider myself as something more powerful than the physicality of myself, which for those of low self-esteem, confidence and worth is bell ringing cheer.

When I arrived in Ireland in September I exited the Dublin airport arrivals gate knowing no one would be there to meet me on the other side. Jet lagged, and full of luggage I marched forward. Emotions flooded me as I thought: ‘Why the fuck did you come back here? Remember how depressed you were the last time? These bags are fucking heavy’. At this point I was nearly to the escalators, which would bring me to the bus stop, but my persistent subconscious angel caught me at a rare moment, and inserted the word 'heal'. I undoubtedly knew I came back to Ireland to heal. So I turned around, went back to the arrivals gate, paused and felt the sorrow of my bruised heart — I knew this move was the right choice, no matter the outcome of all aspirations I am casting out. Returning to the gate for a moment of self acceptance I repositioned my attitude, and 'healing' has been my internal compass since that moment. The nitty gritty is not worth talking about, and rather boring. But, healing has been taking place, it has taken place in my mind of slowly meeting myself daily with actions, thoughts, and attentiveness. Healing has come in form of new friendships which feel as strong as familial ties. It has come in the form of letting myself notice who I am and who I want to be, closing that gap, because I believe it possible. One of the more difficult aspects of healing is that it demands me to widen my view of the world. I can’t obsess over my coffee pot breaking, the internet bill I was wrongly charged for, or the toaster oven sans racks. These small stressors can be fixed or adapted to, and when I do so I am able to focus on the larger parts of self that need true mending, the healing. Such as, making sure my POD is the human I want it to be when my vessel crashes.


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