Photo courtesy of agsandrew on istockphoto.com
How I love to love.
It is the dreamer, the believer, the connected traveler living my life in me. It is the wild woman who wants to dive deep into that pulsing, sensual tactile heart…
Living unbound. It has also stung me, scorched my fingers into blisters, soccer punched me out of air where I am left for hours on end grasping my chest, learning to breathe again.
I breathe slowly and so deeply, filling my lungs like an archer pulling back an arrow.
And out, with the pain in my mind, I shoot my breath toward it commanding surrender.
Hidden under clothing, structure, stricture, norms, and mores. I yearn for freedom to run, arms open, headlong into the wind…Think like an eagle, sing like a cardinal, cuddle — give and take comfort like a cat, show ultimate loyalty like a dog.
Trapped. Trapped. Invisible chords biting and pulling me back. Yet the wildness calls to the beach and the shore. Where a wild girl wave hops and leaves evermore, bursting forth right of out of her skin. No shoes nor socks dare hold her within.
Wildness lives in me…Untamed power…wildness offers freedom to my heart and juices my loins. Embodied wildness I feel it all: suffering, anguish, rage, exaltation, contentment, and joy.
The past few years, I have spent more time looking at what is inside…going with answers from inside me…my heart has always been right.
Everything is a blank page, a blank canvas, a blank mind free of thoughts. Everything is born of creativity, whether that be about me, my life circumstances, my views of the world or the people in it.
I can change everything in a moment’s notice and start my life over. Creativity takes me back to joy, the joy of being me, the joy of being alive.
A thousand to-do’s of practicality, necessity, duty, responsibility, all that I make the serious business of my days
And then the tiny jolt
The prickle of excited body and anticipating mind
The acres of limitless possibility roll into view
unbridled, free-flowing, hot flash and flicker inside
leaning into the starting blocks for the sheer joy of the moment
before the run Seven again,
on that morning when happiness flew me
All this quivering impatience and the temptation to hurry
Much to learn but I’m enrolled, body mind and soul
The secret’s out the roar is music and the beat moves within me
There is no action just being
There is no fear just peace
There is no worry just trust
There is no unmet need just abundance
There’s no need to move or even grow
There is always enough
There is always a song being born
There is always a feeling so tender
There is always inception of life
I go, I see, I make and create, I play and rejoice and feel
this is what I came for.
Courtesy of Anni Poole, Trish Pomeroy, Charlotte Rozich, Susan Rosin, Kirstien Bjerregaard, Andrea Morrison, Sue Pankiewicz, Masha Liashenko, and Holly Mitchell
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Happy Birthday, Linda, Jim said. I’m nearby. Given that my husband had been dead for eleven months, it unnerved me to hear him.
Yearning was written as part of a Method Writing Class with Jules Swales. Inspired by Rainer Maria Rilke’s Eighth Elegy in the Duino Elegies. “Nowhere, beloved, will satiation be found but within. In the heart’s cavern only, seen by none, celebrated by none, adored by none, the grail hides, a tabernacle clothed in invisibility.”