Free Falling

Hello Again, Multiple Truths

Some days feel like a free fall.

Other days are a paragliding wonder (my husband flies all the time!).

This last week was a FREE FALL.

Someone I love with every fiber of my being and body was very suddenly dying.

Someone my child body, teenage body and woman body all know.

Septic shock. Induced coma. Infection everywhere. She might not make it.

Wait, what? This can’t be. That news coincided with other unruly revelations in my own life. All in 24 hours. Shock waves on top of those shock waves, + eclipse spins. I’m being cryptic about details because part of it is actually not my story to tell—not yet. Only as of a day ago has she made it back to the world of the living.

A few weeks ago, I happened upon this sculpture when flipping through one of our coffee table books on Isamu Noguchi, an artist Chris and I both became captivated by during our pre-children, mid-20’s NYC years. It’s called “Miss Expanding Universe” and was made in 1932. That language—then? Really? It surprises me. Back in March of 2024 (what is time, these days?), sitting in the afternoon sunlight of my living room, holding that thick heavy book in my hands, I saw a female body soaring through the sky, taking off, becoming one with all the elements, one with herself. I texted it to a few friends. I made it a prompt for one of my groups.

Now … all I see is a figure plummeting.

Down. Down. Down.

Down some more.

If I guide myself, I can see both. I can move between both truths.

I can even see the wires holding her.

Tethers?

My most beloved mentor has continued to remind me: “Molly, remember multiple truths. This and that.” I know this concept. I work it in my own work, in my life too. A stuck story is thin and dedicated to one point of view. A fluid personal or collective story is one of possibility and many options. The characters, including yourself, are rounded, not good or bad. No sugar coating. No Pollyanna-ing. Simply holding it all. I’m beginning to know the truth of multiple truths consistently in my nervous system. AND I need the reminders. I need someone I respect and love to say, “Remember? Remember?” in the precise moment when my pattern (or protecting mechanism) is to absolutely not remember, to refuse to loosen my grip on the flag of familiarity. Sometimes she will invite me to Sit with the ambivalence. When she brings those multiple truths to me in an unexpected moment, when it sneaks up on me being so so damn sure, I can feel my system get jangle-y, tossed up, re-oriented, and the my soul rearranges itself around the new information. Oh yes, that’s right.

I have to be willing, though.

I am expanding and plummeting at the same time—and everything in between.

Miss Expanding Universe and Miss Plummeting Universe are the same person.

You too?

The world too?

It’s so much easier to choose one “truth”—to glom on, and pull up your righteous pants about it. I’m less interested in that. The multiple truths disturbs everything. It messes with what I know and, even though that is scary, it’s where I want to go.

So, to my April question about how to orient in a disorienting world, that is one way.

For me at least.

Bring on the multiple truths.

Eclipsing and praying in the woods, altar to The Shadow, on the earth-ground at long last (spring!) with my firstborn who said "can we just be and do nothing but being?" and blowing a kiss to my loved one when we thought she was departing

Thank you to my friends this week.

What is the world without friends?

Here’s a poem made from some phrases (there are more!) they spoke to me:

Notice the eggs and put them in the basket for later

Notice the defense and go underneath it

Walk before you are ready to walk

Have you made rules of governance?

Your anger is a free radical. Direct it to where it is due.

There is evidence, Molly.

Always back to source.

Sailing.

Let’s collaborate on this.

Your face is de-armoring.

You didn’t feel energy in your hands. (Want to bet?)

Moll, I’m tired.

Want me to come sit with you?

Want me to come tea with you?

My heart just melted hearing you.

I think I feel whole for the first time in my life.

Send your voice to her to call her back.

Would you like a taco?

That last one. We all need a friend who can go the depths with you while she tucks you into the couch, makes you a taco and already knows exactly what you like on it. I’m so so grateful. Thank you, thank you, thank you for my life.

Putting down my flag of familiarity,

loving,