The Star Card

I sat in a restaurant reading the wine menu, scanning a jumbled mess of letters that refused to form words in my brain. Sauvignon this, Pinot that. I don’t give a shit. Another choice, another decision, I just wanted a white wine. But God not Chardonnay.

I reached in my purse to grab my phone and winced. The raw skin of my fingertips screaming, mourning the nails that had been torn away. The only sign of my mental state.

I dove back into the menu, praying the letters would form words that would help me comprehend, help me decide, but the man seated next to me had a book. A distraction. From the menu to the book, I continually looked, which one was going to save me.

He caught me. Shit.

“What’s that book?” I blurted.

He was calm, still, I wondered how somebody could ever reach that level of – peace.

“Rumi, ever heard?”

“No, I’ll have to check it out,” I said as I smiled politely and turned toward the waitress that was now at my table. I wasn’t ready. The wine, the words. Decisions.

“I’ll just have a white wine, any wine, dealer’s choice.”

Why do they always bring the fucking Chardonnay!

My friend arrived. Showtime.

“HIIIII! Oh my God I couldn’t wait for this, I’m so excited to see you. Tell me everything!”

Blah, blah, blah, weather, curtains, hair, I don’t care.

Rumi, Rumi, Rumi.

“Me? Oh, you know I’m good. Let’s see, single again, like strong independent women even need men, right? And yes, the new job is great. I can see myself there for a VERY long time!”

Lies. And you can’t even tell. Am I that good or are you that bad?

Why am I friends with you again?

Rumi, Rumi, Rumi.

I got home and crawled into bed. The Sinister Knight prowled, waiting to pounce and steal me away from the day.

A different night, the same war. Back and forth I was pushed, back and forth I was pulled. The shadows of the Knight not even dark enough to keep the Villainous Thoughts from hunting me, finding me, and hurling me back to the light.

I yawned as I began to trudge through the morning of a new day.

A sign in the coffee shop window caught my eye, FREE BOOKS, but I only saw one.

Rumi.

I snatched it. This was the Universe talking to me, right? Do I even believe in that? I had to believe in something.

I couldn’t flip fast enough, page after page, poem after poem, God I hate poetry. But the letters formed the words and the words clicked in my brain.

And there it was.

“The wound is where the light enters you.”

Wound? If my body was a Tarot Card, it would surely be the Ten of Swords. But all those holes and there’s no light.

How do I find the light?

Do I stand in the sun, spark a match, swallow a flashlight? Did my mom save my Ouija board? I’ve got some questions for this Rumi.

Questions I knew I didn’t need the answers to. Because how can the light find you when all you do is hide?

Why do we do that?

Why do we shove our souls into the murky depths, hoping to sink so far down that we can’t be seen by anyone, not even ourselves? Yet we still hope that someone, anyone, will see us.

Save us.

I waited, all the time I spent waiting for someone to reach me, to pull me up, to show me the way.

They did. One by one they came! One by one they showed me the way!

But I hated where they lead me.

WHY DID I LET THEM LEAD?

I plunged myself back into the abyss, deeper, darker.

Another hand reached out. But this time, I didn’t grab it.

This time, I grabbed ahold of myself.

I shoved ten fingers into ten wounds, and I lead the way.

Slowly, I rose from the sea of despair.

Head above water I took my first breath; THIS is when my life began.

The onyx sky above seeped into the obsidian sea below, no light to show where the two might meet. But I could see. This night could not, would not swallow me.

Perfectly manicured fingers weaving liquid ribbons. Treading, not to keep from drowning, but to feel. Calm. Still.

Peace.

My mind began to race, searching for a direction, a way, pleading to know where I would lead. There was no need, and I cut off the villain inside of me.

I only wanted to stare at the sky. And so, I did, and I smiled at my reflection staring back at me.

The North Star in the night sky.