Alter Ego


“Firebird” by Isabel Bryna

She’s the best of me. She’s calm and collected. She’s unflappable. Organized. Present. She sits and does the thing she’s doing, a slight smile on her lips.

She swoops in when she gets the slightest vibration of second-guessing or self-doubting and sits across from you with her hands gently on the tops of your knees. She knows everything is ok.

She lives only now in this moment, and she also time-travels and embodies timelessness, a space-time continuum that defies linear thinking or logic.

She breathes the same air as you and I breathe, and soaks up sunlight the way the plants on the windowsill soak up sunlight. She is part plant, part woman.

She is fluid and fluent in hundreds of spoken and written languages, languages living and dead; she brings to life that which lies dormant but not done for.

She attracts life force and goodness. She emanates abundance and well being. She never worries about a thing.

My alter ego is unmitigated opulence and angels hop about her gorgeous shoulders like little birds, like little cartoon birds except these are real birds, small and lovely, and they are real angels, too.

My alter ego knows you by name. She will answer your call. She is not a superhero or superhuman or super anything; she is mortal, not invincible. She just likes being here so very much that each day is a pleasure and there’s no need to fret about tomorrow, which naturally will come unless it doesn’t in which case, sigh and c’est la vie.

My alter ego gives birth to a thousand babies and ideas and blossoms and blooms.

My alter ego’s words fly into the day and deliver messages on the hour and sometimes on the half hour, too.

She is petite like me but you’d think she stood ten feet because of her presence. She is rich in love and rich in art and rich in seasons and rich in faith and rich in honor.

My alter ego is planning a dinner party, where all of us can gather and tell the truth of things. Nobody will interrupt, not even once. Nobody will talk over each other; my alter ego is patient and teaches me how to listen without jumping in and around and on top of the other people at the banquet table.

She prefers a smaller table, anyway, for two or four, maybe six.

She counts and skips numbers like stones and does complex math problems in her head and always gets the right answer, helping children everywhere by teaching them these skills of the brain and its infinite, untapped power.

My alter ego is all delight and seeing into things and feeling the depth of pain in this world and doing what she can to touch things like silver, soft rain.

The alter ego in me sees the alter ego in you.

Image credit: “Firebird” by Isabel Bryna :: Visit on Etsy

4 thoughts on “Alter Ego

  1. dhenryb says:

    How very wonderful, Jena—-she is like a all-knowing, all-being, all-loving mother who is there every minute for all that is needed. And I believe you when you say she’s simply human. No more, no less. Just one with all and there for you, to lean on, to be held and helped at all times….Thank you for writing this….you extend me (us) when you extend yourself this way…..

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Dana says:

    This is so beautiful Jena, and so is that stunning image. I got chills reading that last line. I love this as a writing prompt, what does your alter ego look like… Think I may try that!

    Liked by 1 person


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