"We're here to help each other through this. Whatever it is."

When I wrote this, I was speaking very much about other people. Today I'm going to do something I rarely do...write about me. A few weeks ago, I was maintaining. Currently, I am not.

The last few weeks have been rough, health-wise. Another rarely broached topic. In short, I've felt miserable and have been in pain. New pain...in different places...sleeping 14 hours at a time pain. When I saw my chiropractor earlier last week and actually shared (honestly) with him how I was feeling, he asked some pretty pointed questions. We'll get to that. But he also told me to cut out caffeine and sugar. And told me to stop skateboarding.

Let's get this straight: I've gone cold turkey on both caffeine and sugar before. I can do it. At this point in my life, however, americanos and ice cream are two addictions that I cling to and rightfully claim. They are two things that, healthy or not, I run to for comfort...and partially for survival. Grr. Skateboarding? One of the rare instances where I can exercise some sort of control over my physicality, as well as mentally distract myself from all else.

Lest this become a purely angry rant or pity party for things that aren't soon to disappear, I'll move on to the pointed questions. He asked me what I was hiding from. Goosh. Then he told me (he didn't have to ask) why I wasn't accepting all of the peace that GOD offers me, and instructed me to allow more love and life into myself. Easy enough. I'll just have the butler run to the hot air balloon and grab the reserves. Know that I am unable to cast sarcasm aside, try as I might.

I walked around for my requisite 15 minutes of rehab and weights after my adjustment completely lost. How do I allow myself more love and life, when I'm struggling to know what those things even are? Notice I'll be absolutely circumventing the question of hiding. Although after thinking about that for a few days, it came back. Today. In the unlikeliest of places.

Back up a few months. As I was driving back to Denver from Illinois over Labor Day, I first realized this absence of any true knowledge of love. I put on a cd wrought with emotion and connectedness in effort to draw either from myself. Smacked upside the face with the overwhelming sense that a giant piece of the puzzle was not there. While having a full intellectual understanding of unconditional love, I have never truly believed in being worthy of that myself. Wowza. To date, I've only shared that with 2 people-and then still in the stages of tentativeness.

Today I took a walk with a guy I just met a few weeks earlier. We met, at random, to go see The National play in the middle of October. Sharing a string of emails and then a couple of hours filled with great conversation and a fantastic show, we had no shortage of things to discuss. However, he's only in town for a brief bit, visiting before leaving for a indeterminate trip to India.

As we walk today, there was little risk involved in our talk. Barely knowing each other and doubtful to see one another again, questions were brazenly posed and answered with abandon. When it came to these matters of spirituality and love, I was captured unaware with that terrifying catch in my throat. Then it just came out. Here is this virtual stranger, asking just the right questions. And I couldn't hide.

Last night the roommates and I had a discussion besmirching the whole of 2010. Given that I know a number of folks ready to see its termination, I know this is nothing new: but I am ready for it to scoot on out. For me, this year has been rife with the almost. Coulda shoulda wouldas at every turn. Not necessarily failings, just an approximation of things that pretty much nearly just about worked out. Jobs, relationships, realizations....

So as this year closes in, I am armed with an arsenal of things to ponder; there is a struggle unfolding that I'm finally naming and admitting. I've begun to have hope; I know that opening up is the only way out. That enlightenment will be painful, though it is inevitably to be shared, in order to release myself of that injury.

Twenty-ten will soon be making tracks. If it's found not bolting fast enough, I'll ninja kick it on the way out the door. Plus, I'm in a knife gang. I'll cut it.