Phoenix Rising

Permit me to be overly dramatic.  The subject has come up several times in the past few days (coincidence?) ...

Everyone knows the tale of the phoenix.  It's simple, yet powerful, and the imagery is often enough to spark the motivation for change.  The mythology weaves through a variety of cultures, from Greek to Roman, Egyptian to Japanese.  Early Christianity used it extensively, often to symbolize the resurrection of Christ.

The phoenix was an ancient bird with brilliant red and purple plumage, with regenerative and restorative powers, depending on the tale you're reading.  It lived for hundreds of years.  At the end of its lifespan, it would build a nest - some say of cinnamon twigs, others say with fragrant berries - which it would then ignite in a fearsome blaze.  The phoenix would burn alive, taking with it everything around, until only fire and ash remained.  And from that fire and ash, a phoenix would rise, beginning new life from old.  A fresh start.

For me, the symbol of the phoenix is one of strength and hope.  In a shattered sea of chaos, we can climb out, begin anew, changed and tempered.  But...

The phoenix incinerates its old self, including its nest.  Only the phoenix can escape its own destruction.  Its resurrection comes at a steep price and reminds me of the heartache that we face as we struggle to change, sometimes leaving what and who we knew behind.  As we with mental health issues work to become better human beings, risen from the shells that we were trapped in, we sometimes have to make sacrifices that are extremely painful.  We're changing, starting over, but this doesn't mean that those around us are willing to do the same.  We burn our homes, our securities, our relationships, all our bridges...  it hurts so deeply that it feels like there's no escaping the flames.  Everyone seems to suffer.  Everything seems to disappear.

But eventually we rise, hopefully with fresh eyes and a wizened perspective.  It's certainly scary, losing it all and being born again.  That's why it's important for us to look around for a fellow phoenix.  Only a phoenix can know how another is feeling emotionally and understand how it felt to burn.  Intense connections can form in a matter of days, hours, or even minutes.  We empathize, not just sympathize, and can lean on each other as we build new lives.  Again - build new lives, NOT rebuild.  Our old lives are gone and I wouldn't want to rebuild mine anyway.

And so, I dedicate this to my fellow phoenix who have been lifted from their own hurt to start life again.  You've provided me with support, understanding, and (most of all) a non-judgmental shoulder to rest my head upon.  Because of you, I'll keep rising.