WHO AM I?
I am the crisis that defines you. I may be that sudden automobile accident, that diagnosis, that unexpected email rejection. I can be as quick as a slap across the cheek. Or I may be one of those slow-moving crises that seems to eat away at your gut day after day. That step off the edge of the pool when you were 2 years old and went in over your head and gave you fear of water for the rest of your life. That poker game in which you were suddenly in way over your head. I am the panicky business investment which you have made and you're about to lose it all. The lie that came back to you. The little mistake that now has gotten out of control. Remember me? I took your beautiful watercolor painting and slopped indigo paint on it, trailed it across your pretty bright colors. I am the splash of indigo in your life: your heart attack, your cancer, the abortion, the perfect relationship gone wrong. There go your plans. Your hopes! Your dreams! Shot down in flames. And you are left with what? Broken dreams? Broken idealism? You’re left broken.
WHY AM I HERE?
I bring you choices you would never make for yourself. I come to you, and your higher self offers your weaknesses up to me, just like Father Abraham. You are the son I must slay. I take you and I break you so you can have a choice. I give you choice, just like God gave Abraham that choice. I un-fix the fixed. I cause you to consider tightening up what’s loosey-goosey. What will you do? Will you blot up the indigo paint on your pretty colors? Pretend I never happened? Will you give up? Cry over your broken dreams? Get corrective surgery? How will you hide a broken heart? Get ’tude? Look for a White Knight? (You know, that indigo will never TOTALLY blot up! Everyone can tell. Everyone knows.) The memory will always be there.
Why were you broken? Was it something you did? Or something you ARE? Are you guilty? Have something to hide? Were you broken to let something OUT? Or to let something IN? Is being broken the end of something else? Or, is it only the beginning? How do you respond? How will your higher self respond?
Everyone starts with naïve idealism. But once you’re broken you have the possibility to create achieved idealism out of the ashes of your dreams that went down in flames. “Achieved Idealism,” a second marriage of you and your disillusioned self. It’s discovery, recovery, learning and the lesson. You’re not a pretty couple. A little indigo around the edges, imagination, deep, dark indigo, mixing with the crimson, yellow and blue, new hues appearing stronger, deeper, more powerful than you ever imagined. That’s why I’m here. To create the new, improved and damaged you.
WHAT DO I WANT?
I want to live, and love, in universal imperfection. Couch surf with your karmic carpool. I am in the limbless arms of another who holds you. I am the ravaged face. The blind eyes. The drooping stroke smile. The limp. The drooling happy friend. I bring the impossible together with the improbable. I want you with me. I want you never to forget me, and I want you to carry me in your heart . . . right where Abraham was aiming the knife.
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