The rot helped me to understand.

While reading Hval’s Paradise Rot, I reflected on the phenomenon of fungi growth that follows death, and came to the conclusion that it is nothing more than a rebirth. The disgusting nature of what it means to embody humanity is natural; change is the only inevitable constant in biology and therefore fundamentally intertwined within our dna. 

Just like rot ought to happen eventually, so does someone leaving. 

And then someone coming. Then leaving again. 

Then you grieve and die and rot, and the fungi come and consume you. 

The fungi finds you yummy; It loves you, it finds life in you. And then all of a sudden, like the inexplicable materialization of life on earth, you are born once again. 

I feel like I have been rotting this whole year. Dying and being born over and over again. My pride and ego have taken beatings like no other. I also feel more aligned than I have ever felt, which is a beautiful consequence of succumbing to the rot.

The orientation of the sky when I was born tell me that this is an important lesson in particular. I found my answer and it is this:

Let go and let rot.

I recently discovered my need to have others be awakened by love in order for them to love me; A need to save them so that they can save themselves so that they can see me. It is an order of operations that has never ended in success– and I can say that because I have been trying for twenty two years. But it is only when I let the rot consume me that I realize I do not need a magic word or a savior to be loved. And then I can let go.