I Am a Mystic

For years now, my parents have been calling me a mystic.  It was not a title that I wanted to take for myself because it just felt too...pretentious, or something.

Then...well, then, this past Rosh HaShanah (Jewish New Year) happened, and Oh. My. Goodness.

On the first day, I fended off a demon and glimpsed the angels.

On the second day, I spent time sitting with the angels.  I learned that they are formless by default and take forms when necessary.

Oh, and they left me a handle to tug on to take myself back to them.  It doesn't always work; I'm still learning how to use it.

But I would like to say that now I am a mystic.  Like, for real.

I KNOW

Over the past few weeks, through all the darkness and uncertainty, I have found comfort in clinging to all that I KNOW.  Here is a list:

I KNOW that God is with me.

I KNOW that God will not abandon me.

I KNOW that even if there is no light at the end of the tunnel, there is meaning in the moment, and that is enough.

I KNOW that I have friends who love me.

I KNOW that I have family who love me.

I KNOW that one day, if only in the World to Come or following the coming of the Messiah, my suffering will be ended.

I KNOW that I am walking this road with as much dignity as possible, and I KNOW I can be proud of myself for that.

All of the above, I KNOW.

"Dawn?"

Here is another poem about my disability, written today.  Its title is "Dawn?".

"Dawn?"
My heart pounds with my effort.
I swear to God I'm trying.

I do not swear easily,
Nor do I take God's name in vain.

My stomach churns.
My brain is spinning.
I cannot see the light of day.

Reeling, I try to comprehend
My new reality.

"Disabled Sweetness"

I have been thinking for a while now about the best way to do this post, a post on what being disabled means to me.  I finally decided to just let a poem I wrote today, "Disabled Sweetness," speak for itself.

"Disabled Sweetness"
Bending to the forces of a disability,
To the hand that shoves you down
And will not let you back up.

Asking for the help you need,
Always scared that they'll say no.

Learning to fall with dignity,
And--tearless--rise up again.

Bending--
Asking--
Learning--
Sweet lessons of life.