INDUCED

I was induced.

I like the womb.

I like hot water bottles, heating pads, and soft blankets.

I make low-slung forts out of sheets and climb under them so I can breathe.

I prefer to sleep on my stomach (though try not to because it whacks out my neck.)

I had no desire to enter this 3D world, naked and cold without a bubble of warmth around me.

I wanted to stay inside and muse.

Ruminate. Sensate.

But dad had a new job at DuPont – in Delaware – so I got yanked out before I decided to come out. If ever – I would have.

I’m still getting over it.

I am still getting used to it.

THE COLD AIR, CONCRETE, FLORESCENT LIGHTING.

 

I sat – still sit – in the back of class head down doing best to disappear.

Choose corners in cafes and padded booths in diners.

For a decade I slept all day and was up all night.

Nocturnal. Off the grid.

Then I spelunked my life. 36 hours awake, 12 asleep.

Oh – and I got an unidentifiable auto-immune illness for ten years that kept me in the country and off the streets, out of punch card jobs and nightclubs.

I chose to be a songwriter and poet – to plumb the depths of feeling and psyche . . . a long inward journey instead of happy hikes up the canyon with bright eyed newly arrived actors from Boise and Bowling Green . . . and Brazil.

ALL ATTEMPTS TO HIDE.

CRAWL BACK INSIDE TO SAFETY. TO WARMTH.

Maybe this was rebellion at having been yanked out before my time – and my choice.

A QUIET REBELLION OF RESISTANCE.

A REBELLION AT LIFE.

AT SHINING OUT LOUD.

Maybe I’ve felt I have to reclaim my ability to choose by absconding from limelights that seem to find their way to my crazy hair and blue-eyed visage –

And then I duck – for safety.

“I AM NOT SAFE HERE,” SAYS BODY.

“I DID NOT MEAN TO BE NOTICED, I’M SORRY,” SAYS MOUTH.

And then it happens again – I am >>> POINTED OUT.

I AM INDUCED TO COME OUT INTO THE LIGHT.

 

I am tired.

Resistance takes effort.

It is enervating.

And useless.

And I am wise enough to know better.

I teach flow and speak of no time no space LOVE IS.

And yet, I still find myself wanting to climb back under the covers make a tent and –

SIT THIS INCARNATION OUT.

Then I remember.

I believe in Immortality.

No time no space circular exponential desires manifesting more love is radiating . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Infinitely . . . . . . . . .

So what the hell am I waiting for?

Nothing is going to end.

I’m not going to get out that easily.

I can skip shining like I carefully skipped school – but I still matriculated – still have those degrees . . .

I can duck when the lime lights headlights stage lights come my direction – but they will swing around again . . .

And I want to save my knees

And stop throwing my neck out.

I am tired of ducking for safety.

Today, I officially:

INDUCE MYSELF INTO THIS BRILLIANT WORLD.

I ACCEPT MY SHINE AND ENCOURAGE YOU WOMB LOVING TENT BUILDING LATE BLOOMING INCARNATED BEAMS OF LIGHT TO DO THE SAME!