Survivor's Edge

This morning I poured soy milk into my granola and immediately noticed the clumping nature. I threw the bowl out, and noticed a pain. It's that same tension I get when a friend suggests that we go out for a meal. It occurs as panic. I calculate. I'm feeling guilt. Wasting. I'm living on an edge, and that edge is called Survival. It's painful, and it's real, and it was more intense when I couldn't name it, didn't know what the pain was that I felt when it came to spending money and eating. It was hidden under my gratitude, that the given moment included being supported by friends who are there for me emotionally, that I can sleep warmly every night, that I can get a hot shower and a space to process. When that pain was named, that I was living on the survivor's edge of coping, that energy moved. And I am still grateful, hopeful, wanting without limits.

Stop waiting. Feel everything. Love achingly. Give impeccably. Let go.

David Deida