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Author Topic: Phoenix  (Read 1234 times)

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Offline EphemeraTopic starter

  • smudged with black ink, poly-poet-girl seeking poets, borrower of ink pens, addicted logophile, chaser of darkness, collector of baubles and trinkets
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Phoenix
« on: June 09, 2011, 07:46:46 AM »
Originally posted on my poly blog
 http://moreamour.blogspot.com/2011/04/phoenix.html
on April 17, 2011

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Change is the constant, the signal for rebirth, the egg of the phoenix.
~Christina Baldwin




He said to me, “Baby, imagine being invited to witness the birth of a most incredible, beautiful creature you can imagine. That’s what it’s like to have you in my life.” …and he calls me his poet. Shepherd sees me as a being in the midst of rebirth. I suppose I see myself much the same way -- a sort of phoenix being reborn, not from the ashes of my life, but still, reborn.

In a conversation with my young adult daughter last week, she confided in me that she sees herself as a curious person; eager to learn and to experience all life has to offer. She’s wondering about how that will translate into her most important, romantic relationship. She worries that she will get bored after choosing the one man to marry and raise a family alongside. My baby girl knows that monogamy isn’t her only option. She also knows that monogamy is a perfectly viable choice on her list. What struck me about her revelation is that I know exactly how she feels.

I remember as a young woman being excited about making those soul-connections with others. The majority of my friends were men, and I didn’t date all that much until I was a senior in high school. But there was something different in me, a hunger – a passion that many wouldn’t acknowledge, or at least some tried to discourage. “You’re too intense… too emotional… too idealistic.” I heard all these indictments from so called friends, and well meaning acquaintances.

At the age of nineteen, I was just beginning to explore the world when I found myself pregnant. Immediately the course of my life changed. My flight was grounded. I married, because it was the only choice given me. I began a family three months before my twentieth birthday. Four years later I had three babies, and was single again. Don’t misunderstand me, because I loved raising my kids. I was a damned good mother – the very best I knew how to be. I’m proud of the adults my children became, and of the investment I made to be their full-time mom.

However, a few years ago I worked myself out of that job as one by one, each of my children launched out on their own and began to fly. The grieving process for that separation was something I never anticipated, but in time I learned to accept that this was how life works. Watching them test their wings, I felt those old dreams fluttering to life in my spirit. It was time for me to go back and explore that life that I’d traded in exchange for motherhood and family, twenty years before.

Some would say that I am the woman who grew unhappy in her marriage, and went through a crisis, deciding to abandon all that I’d worked so hard to build for selfish reasons. I was feeling old, and realizing that my life was half over. So I went a little crazy, and decided I wanted more -- more men, more sex, and more life. The truth is that all those things are true, in a very narrow sense. But I didn’t become polyamorous overnight because the label fit the sort of life I’d just come to decide I wanted. I think this broken bird inside of me has always been waiting to spread her wings and chase those dreams that she earlier laid aside.

Now I find myself exploring, working, building the muscles it takes to fly, and it’s intense. It’s hard, and exhausting, and wonderful. I spend a great deal of time worrying and crying, thinking and communicating, writing and examining my heart. This life is complicated. This being reborn process is painful. But every time I break through and find that plateau where I can soar and rest and think about how truly fortunate I am – I realize the true worth of my struggles.

This is the intensity I’ve always craved. This complicated, painful, stretching rebirth is just who I am, and just where I belong. I’m glad others think it’s a privilege to witness. For me, living it is nothing less that truly amazing – and in the end, if someone who loves me is moved to poetry by the life I’m living, I’m truly blessed to be so loved.
« Last Edit: June 09, 2011, 08:04:56 AM by Ephemera »