Disassemble

There's a bird I take with me wherever I go. So far, we have been through 5 moves: Mallory to Oleander to Herschel to S. Moon to Casey Key & back to S. Moon. It's a flat silhouette of a turquoise bird made from thin metal. Her wing is raised and there's a hole from her breast to her stomach. This hole houses a small, purple gem attached to the body by a thin, coiled wire. I suppose it represents the heart. And attached to the top of her wing is a simple, leather loop. Through every move, I give her a floating home by looping the leather strap around the ceiling fan chain of my bedroom(s). Inanimate object? Sure. But she remained constant as I moved in to one place, moved out of another, rearranged, ripped apart, put back together, lost friends, gained friends, laughed, cried, prayed, cursed...everything.

At the end of September, I resigned from my teaching job. My world, it seemed, was falling apart. It's stupidly obvious now but if you're not happy, the job, salary, benefits, apartment, and routines mean nothing. I'd become this desensitized vessel, going through the motions of what I thought I should be doing instead of what I wanted to be doing. I realized shortly after I left Jacksonville that I just hadn't been listening to myself. I didn't pay attention, and this was due to a major lack of trust within. I've started rebuilding that over the past 4 months, but sometimes it still feels like I'm taking things apart and unearthing little gems that are initially covered in crap.

Above all, I'm learning how important it is to trust and listen to oneself. It is only by doing this that I am then able to truly help others...to move from selfishness to selflessness. As Marianne Williamson says, "Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you." I think my little bird is a great reminder of this.