Soluble Stories: A Subtle Alchemy

“You might want to reach out and disturb a pile of pigment, for example, first staining your fingers with it, then staining the world.”

Maggie Nelson

Before the pigment can stain my fingers, I must be first willing to approach it. My advance is cautious as pigment is nearly insoluble in water. There is pain in diving beneath the surface, shining light on the shadows, and changing my shape. If I disturb the stories that I tell myself, allow the color to spread into the potential for transformation, it becomes impossible to fit into old thoughts, patterns, and relationships.

The pigment dares me to make my mark.

Yet, I am comfortable with these stories. In their long standing familiarity they feel like an impenetrable wax on my psyche, my soul. Divisive stories about my worth, a dwelling on my fears. “I’m not enough,” or, “I’m a failure,” and, “I’m too scared to make that decision, or to follow my heart’s desire.”

Yet, these stories are soluble, both able to dissolve, and to be solved. If I face them, and the pain, the stories do not stand up to my intuition. Water is the patient transformative force that cleanses wounds as well as heals. Each time I wash away my self-inflicted assaults, and reach into my inner knowing, the stories become merely words, letters, and eventually a blank…