I can’t see her, but I know she’s there. I can smell the unmistakable scent of pure water, and there is an actively serene atmosphere about me. I want to relax here. I know I’m safe. Of all entities I’ve faced, I know I’m safe here, with her.
But the wounds of my evisceration are still slowly healing. No more glass has grown, but I am still removing the symbols of other people’s ideas and words that I have internalized to my detriment. This is going to take a while.
“Forgive me, Madre Maria, but I haven’t it in me to be up to any shenanigans today.”
I hear the rattling of beads and look in the direction of the sound. I see a pair of hands, wrapped in the sleeves of a light blue robe, clasped before said robe and holding a rosary. “I know.” Her voice sounds how a sleepy kitten feels. I can see nothing else of her. I notice her hands have just enough definition to them to be recognized as hands. “I just want to remind you not to push yourself too hard as you heal. It is good you are recognizing what is unhealthy and removing it from your psyche and your habits. But you do not live in a perfect world, and you must keep some of the sharpness that keeps you safe from other things even though it means you are unable to live up to your perfect ideal.”
I notice I am not ashamed to be standing here with a horrific wound. I was not ashamed to be seen in weakness. I was okay with her. “You really just want me to be okay.”
The hands bobbed. “Yes.”
I grunt a non-answer, still not willing to completely trust that just yet. I have been reviewing a lot of what I thought about myself and what I believed about myself. She’s right. I’ll never be able to even get close to my ideal. I’ve been through too much shit that has forever changed me. But I can’t allow myself to become the stereotype that everyone around me tries to squeeze me into form. A sharp pain stabs the back side of my abdomen. I turn away from her to be polite and reach into my open gut until I find the source. I pull the piece out but feel it break off inside. A jagged piece of wood that continually cracks and splinters. No matter how I contort my body to try and keep it from hurting me, it would only break and stab me again. Just like how I’ll never be able to live up to other people’s expectations of me. The goalposts keep moving. The requirements keep changing. It makes sense now that it would break off as I try to remove it. I’ll be digging this out for as long as there are people I want to impress, regardless if they are for me or not.
“Madre, I’m supposed to be going forward on the Path of Teth. Is this part of that challenge, or just terrible timing? This… self-examination is not a mere month’s work. I will be clearing this out for the rest of this life, and maybe part of the next.”
She smiled with strange mirth. The rosary in her hands clinked lightly. I felt foolish for asking. “It is work you started years ago. Only now you are able to work on the inner things with clarity. You live. You will always have work to do.”
“So, that’s the wrong question, then. Then what is the right question?”
“Are you going to let this work distract you from what you need to do right now?”
I pulled my coat closed over my body. It buttoned itself, covering and sealing the wound. If I wait for me to be at the perfect health to continue the challenge, I’ll never start the challenge. The Path of Cheth taught me that. The perfect conditions don’t exist. There is the best that one can do, and the movement forward through it. “And what do I need to do right now, Madre Maria?”
“Be okay, where you are.”
“I’ll try.”
“That’s all I ask.”
I bowed. When I stood, even the apparition of her hands and rosary was gone. I turned, and left the vision.