Beneath Existing at All
I feel very fragile sometimes, like right now, too late at night. As though any small haphazard thing can bounce nihilistically across the room and — bonk, crash! — shatter my life.
Below this feeling is a so-common fear: that Tony Chavira is not a strong or resilient person. That, in truth, he may be too weak to survive in this world as it’s built.
And just beneath this fear is a toxic inferiority: that Tony Chavira has feelings of weakness at all. That he is not smart, funny, handsome, wealthy, charming enough, and never will be. That he will always be deficient. So deficient that he must remain afraid, to stay vigilant, he is so incapable otherwise.
And beneath that inferiority is the sting of self-shame: that Tony Chavira is not happy because he does not deserve to feel happy. That he should be ashamed of the person he is.
But even lower than that is someone else, who is looking up and wondering who this person named Tony Chavira is. Wondering why being fragile, or resilient, or smart, or happy even matters to this so-called Tony Chavira. Wondering where Tony learned to tie his everyday happiness to all this stuff in the first place. Wondering why… why any of this is at all?
And yet, even beneath that person is Someone… Someone that all fears and happiness and upsets and joys are part of, Someone who knows they are universal human experiences, the feelings we are allowed to witness while inside human bodies. Someone who even understands the most painful, tortured emotions possible and can accept them, all, this Tony Chavira already has, they’re a part of His wisdom, which is intelligent, and so very ancient. Every layer above Him has its place in this Tony Chavira, and they’re cared for just as they are. He sits far away, in a future time, and looks back on these many people smiling warmly.
But below that person? Just give me some time and a few more late night bouts of insomnia. I’ll get there.

