By Ilda Dashi
I don’t need you ex-lover, ex-friend, potential lover, potential friend.
Who I need most in my life is myself.
I have lost many pieces of who I really am while searching for a lover or partner to console me and make my life more beautiful. I have searched a long time for a friend who can fully understand me, for a lover who can love me completely, for my family to tolerate my moods. I have searched a long time in the forests of my imagination and the hills of reality.
I have walked around and around in circles only to come back again to myself, to the way she is at this very moment. She may be depressed, scared, lonely, sad. But she is the only person that in the end I have to turn to. She might be crying, weeping, praying or silent, but she is the only place I have as a safe shelter to turn to always.
She is the ultimate place for my soul to reside in.
No matter how far I have gone from her time and again, she is the house for my body, mind, and soul. She knows all my moods, my tears, my fears and insecurities. She knows all my anger and restlessness, as she knows all my longings, desires and dreams. She knows it all. No one can know her as she knows herself.
Yet, she still has to find missing pieces of herself, her image, her soul that have fallen somewhere along the way.
I see her crying deep inside as tears warm her cheeks, falling as rain drops, waking her from a heavy sleep. I see her sad face and the way she looks reflected back to herself in the mirror. I see her big eyes turned into tiny creatures because of her inner blocks. I see her when she trembles in darkness whenever a fearful thought travels in her mind.
I see her when she walks alone in the forest, and when she smells the breeze that comes from the trees. I see her when she sits down and talks with a tree or a bird that walks near her feet. She asks the bird what she needs to do for her to be joyful and sing a happy song like it does. I see her in her lonely hours and solitude.
In those moments her face becomes soft and gentle as well as heavy when a certain distant memory comes to visit her. I see her craving for more solitude, more fresh air, more space. Yes, she needs lots of space; she needs the sky in order to survive, otherwise she would collapse slowly. I see her spirit moving up and down as her mind tries to makes sense of what she goes through in her life.
Then I see her soul taking her by her hands, taking her around giving her a new taste of breathing, breeze, wind and fire.
All she has to do is be present and smell the odor of her soul, if she is willing to remain quiet and listen.
I know her wounds and scars that have been accumulated from years and time together. I know how far she has traveled and how much pain and tears she has released and has yet to release. I know that sometimes she does need to be completely alone, no traces of humans around her.
She needs this so she can then function again in her relation to other humans. Otherwise she can’t. But very few people can understand this craving she has once in a while.
I know her temper, how she can explode in rage when things become too much for her to bear, when thoughts and emotions become so overwhelming she desires to roar like a lion in the jungle, only then can she feel some peace.
She needs time and space to process her thoughts, ideas, and feelings to feel healthy again.
I know her heart, how soft it is but how fragile it is at the same time. It can give lots only then to feel drained and she ends up in tears. I know her soul is fragile and strong in the same time. It is this combination that keeps her alive. If her soul is too fragile she would collapse and if her soul is too strong she would not feel life completely. So she needs them both, fragility and strength to keep up in her life.
Her and I have disputes sometimes; we don’t always get along well.
Yet she is my very best friend, because she knows what I go through. She takes care of me; she listens to me and tries to understand me. Sometimes the bridge between one another gets set on fire, burns up and we miss the link to each other and at other times the bridge is built again.
What she needs now more than anything in her life is to allow this bridge to be built up again so she and I can come together again, resonate in oneness and be who I really am.
I know she doesn’t need anything else.
She mistakenly thought for a long time she needed someone or something. Now she understands she does not. She now knows that what she needs is herself. She wants herself ‘back.’ She wants to go ‘home’ to herself. She wants to live as HER, not as someone else. She desires to find the Self she is missing.
It is the Self she is missing and desiring after all.
Ilda Dashi is a seeker of truth in life. She has been accumulating things that she thought really matter in life, until she realised that nothing is of greater importance that finding her own self, and her own path; in other words her own soul. She is continuing to seek new ways of dealing with her own stuggles and understanding her own unique path and her own uniquesness which sometimes scares her. But she can’t follow any other path other than the path her soul is calling her to follow. She is a lover of nature and silence. She loves to be still and meditate, because in those moments she tastes glimpses of her own truth above the veil of dust filled with conditioning and ignorance from the past. She is a dreamer and she likes to reach the stars. You can follow her on Facebook, herblog and her YouTube channel.
Editor: Sherrin Fitzer