The Gravity of Groundlessness

The divine ax of discomfort has lovingly hacked off the legs of my sense of self - all the dear identities, insecurities, even the creative ideas for service - my poetry, lofty expeditions are formless, falling into nothingness.

This groundlessness inside is hard, scary, painful and I keep grasping for something, anything to hold onto. But this ax is more loyal to my liberation than even I am.

Reluctantly I start giving into this carnage inside me and soften the efforts of my limbs to grab some ground.

This must be the cue for my heart, for it kicks out thus far hidden feet and sinks into the only gravity found in such groundlessness, a steadying of my nothingness in a precious gravity called love.

Photo by meriç tuna on Unsplash