Mrs. Johnson

Every once in a while, when I learn a life lesson, I remember Mrs. Johnson. She was my microbiology teacher in college. She was my friend. I loved going to her class. We would always be excited at exchanging our poetry. She would read hers to me and I would share mine. I remember one day walking late into class, I hadn’t had time to remove my sunglasses. She said as I walked to my seat, “here she comes, incognito.”

I aced her class and was asked by her to tutor her summer class, but I, who loves travelling, opted to vacation instead of teach. My anatomy teacher had also asked me to tutor her summer class, but summertime is for vacationing.

One of my favorite poems of Mrs. Johnson is about learning and evolving in life, and that once we learn a lesson, we’re rarely ever confronted with the same situation because we’ve learned the lesson. And there’s a nostalgic tone to it, that we suffer so much to learn a lesson but end up never really needing to apply that lesson again.

She wrote the poem for her step-child who was always moving between her mother’s and father’s home. Here I share the poem.

Again

broken strings and shoelaces, packed again
the bear’s house is left behind, again
patched decisions seamed with frantic fantasies
new-old-new faces
teachers without substance
a piece here, a piece there
childhood fragmented and scattered in too brief a time
promises tied to places, obsessions, reversals
why must we run from the ghosts

shift, shift, shift
move down, move down, new cup, new cup, new cup
to be discontinued………..
run, run, run,
it will be better, won’t it

unpack but don’t unfold your dreams, again
talents untested, arrested, packed again
unframed sequences briefly reviewed and packed, again
unsent letters, unspent emotions, unsolved problems
feelings out of sequence, abrupted, interrupted, again
tucked in, put away, again
you’ll be too old to use them next time they are opened
don’t learn to adjust
just learn to leave again
rehearse for a rapidly approaching adulthood
a lifetime of lessons well-learned.

Image by Catkin

Chakras

So we’re in the new year, 2015, the year of the sheep in the Chinese  horoscope. I thought it a great time to reflect back to the past year, when I remembered whilst growing up (mind you, I don’t think I’ll ever stop growing up, heck, I even feel infantile still, in some aspects) how adept I was at erasing my memories. I could, with great ease, erase all traces of the memories which were hurtful or painful. I had the system mastered; No traces left. But now, I realize the importance of remembering, for how else, will we ever learn?

I believe living a life devoid of self improvement is a life wasted. 2014 was a year of great triumph; I finally broke through my first chakra. I don’t think I will ever forget the moment it happened. I was taking a bubble bath, meditating, when feelings of rage and anger started bubbling inside of me. I moaned and groaned, releasing these emotions and when I opened my eyes, everything was painted Red. I blinked and squeezed my eyes, trying to clear the red silhouette clouding my vision.  Everything was colored a red hue. I blinked yet again, alarmed– it persisted. I took a look around, everything in my view had a red hue to it. It was then when I felt something release, and the experience of seeing everything painted red in my vision became fascinating. It was the color of blood, even space was a hazy cloud of red…. I kept blinking and blinking, trying to make it go away, but it would not. That is when I just let it be; I was floating in redness, absorbing it all.

It bears mentioning that this came about from a conscious effort of beginning a chakra cleanse a couple of months prior. Now, let’s rewind back a couple of decades and a few more years. As far back as I can remember, probably from the time I first started writing, my place of residence was always in my crown chakra. Usually the head chakra, but oftentimes, my crown chakra; when people’s lips would move, I could not hear what they were saying, because I was not even there. I liked being away; out of my body, far away. Hence, why oftentimes people would look at me as if I was a weirdo. I would get those looks, you know? Sometimes even from my friends. But it mattered not, for I was in a beautiful place.

This lack of being in touch with my lower chakras was evident even in my yoga practice. For the life of me, I could not balance. As strong and flexible as my body is, balance eluded me–until last year. Now I can balance on one foot and I am a stone wall. A pillar reaching down to the core of the earth.

It is amazing how, sometimes, no matter how hard I try at something, it does not work out. But when the time is right, it occurs magically, as if following a recipe written by an invisible hand. Perhaps even my own hand, before I was even born.

In 2015, I will strive for greater self improvement, as I usually have done and do, actually all the time. I have a feeling it will be a year of peeling off the masks. Masks which are beginning to suffocate me.

So to all, I wish you a year of excitement and discoveries. And what better discovery than that of the self?

Ultreya.