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I've lost track of the amount of times that my whole life has liquified. It started when I was 16 and ran away from home, lived in Motel 6s for long enough to know that a life of addiction and blackout sex wouldn't provide the life I wanted. It happened again when I lived abroad, and for the first time I clearly saw all the suffering that had no rhyme or reason; those kids didn't deserve all pain they were given. But that was nearly two decades ago, and my life, since then, still hasn't slowed all the lifting of all the veils; over and over my life crumbled: sobriety, celibacy and budgets cuts, panic attacks, insomnia, and disasters struck. Plus, all my travels shook my perspectives: What's real and true always in question as all that I depended on, and all that I aimed for, revealed a shadow side that crashed me to the floor. Over and over I've been undone, picking up pieces- back to square one. I'd be lying if I didn't admit that there've been times that I've wanted to quit. Even now, there's a doubt that hides and lurks within; despair disguises as good advice when things start trembling: Wouldn't it be easier to just give up? But the sheer number of times I've started over in life has always, thankfully, been silver-lined by loving you. How could I give up on love that's so true? Broken down to break through so that I may be delivered to you. Never empty handed with a full heart, I bring the dowery of an endless start. The resurrection's promise of our life's work: all the fruit and flowers that are rooted in the dirt. The rot in my foundations that dropped me to the ground has decomposed beautifully into the soil I have now to give to you, darling- we've got what we need: the wealth in the Earth that grows all things from big piles of poop, broken branches and rotten fruit, fallen trees and decaying roots- a garden party for the worms and maggots, the microbes and fungi that love to get at it- a whole life devoted to turning our fate, from falling down to feasting on all the things that changed. It might not seem romantic as "getting dirty" has been shamed: "dirt poor" and "filthy rich" as if the Earth's to blame. But I'm amazed at how my sight shifted as I've made the promise to find how I'm gifted by loving you. What a miracle it is to discover how loving you pulls back the covers to reveal the treasure in the dirt; the power of the heart to convert all that's been lost and decomposed into the grace from which life grows.
Check Out the Dorky-Dirt Facts on Soil:
Hear More Songs & Stories of My Dirt Devotion
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