It’s hard to put all of your self as you are in this moment out there without the muddling of visions of past selves popping in and out, isn’t it ?
There are times , maybe even plenty , where you are enjoying your progress and your strengths and your seeming lack of fragmentation. Then something or someone from your past comes back around to test you , literally on a soul level.
You always wish and hope that the same patterns won’t be played around. That you won’t revert back totally. But maybe that’s just it … we kind of are scared of lack of perfection. We don’t want to admit that every moment will still be imperfect and we get stuck in an all or nothing frame of view.
Continue reading the middle road
it’s a strange thing when in order to prove that you are strong, you have to deny what it is that makes you most human. as if the sound of your heart racing will echo into all distances and make you suddenly sniffed out as prey to be capsized.
we slow our hearts down so much for this as if to make it seem like we don’t even own one. as if the racing of our minds and other things are better. as if the flush on our skins will make us too susceptible to being found out. found out for what ? for having emotions and inner lives, which needn’t be a secret anymore in this day and age. we are equipped and have always been equipped with something that will lead us ultimately out of the dark.
Continue reading musings of the heart
to find yourself in an unreality
that keeps being woven by all
those surrounding you.
this is a declaration
of no longer having the quilt
be repeatedly pulled over your head.
since – it might be a shock to hear –
you are not delirious with the fever
have an infinite fervor
for the richness of life.
born with a dancer’s delicateness,
you thin ankles and birdlike feet
were always too ready
to just fly away.
as if you could not let the divinity
in you permeate your whole body,
to reach down to the soles
of your feet, to be stood in.
there will always be those who
are too afraid of the ones who
generate too much electricity.
but this is not something to keep
to yourself, and it is not something
that can be easily stolen out
from underneath you.
the safe haven you preciously maintain
to travel back and forth to and from
needs to be the wings, excavated,
that flees you not from yourself
or your experience,
but from this nest you’ve found yourself in.
after all, your true fear
is that you really just might be able to.
it will take you a while
to get used to the warmth
of your own body again.
it will take some restless nights,
fighting sleep until you get used to
being in the dark again.
it will take some gentleness
from your own touch to not close
the gaps of thoughts or desires,
but to let love perfume out of you,
out from your pores, like the dewy
aura of a genie emerging from a lamp.
the worst of it is over. it still doesn’t mean you don’t have to sit with the havoc that it wreaked though. it still doesn’t mean that you don’t have to go around picking up the pieces, trying to salvage the salvageable, seeing what you can mend and what you cannot.
the pertinent points of it that categorizes such a destruction is no longer here, but we sit in its wake all the same. we sit here, stupefied for a little bit, disoriented for a little bit, still weighed down by the mess that rearranged our nervous systems a little bit. it takes a while to collect ourselves and most importantly, to start facing the reality that things will never be the same again.
but that in itself doesn’t have to be a bad thing. you can’t go back to the same life you were leading because as you can see, that one is already torn up. that phase has passed. it always is going to be the road with all signs pointing to a second life now. that is your true north now. everything is waiting for your ground to grow with more fertility this time.
there is a heaviness that such chaos brings, but it can be clipped into paper birds and paper airplanes and be flung out to leave lightness for yourself and breadcrumbs for others. a snowing of what has survived. the worst of it is over now. but that doesn’t mean we stop wanting more and carving better for ourselves.
what we see in our mind’s eye
never quite aligns with where
our hearts stand in real time.
the conscious and the unconscious always
needs time to be aware of the other,
and for those rare moments of clarity,
embraces the dollops of each other entirely.
what you can rationalize to yourself
does not mean your lesson is learned.
it only beckons you to keep putting in the work
you need to do to shorten the shadow
between you and the much realer you.
it takes patience and consistency.
it means for you to quietly plant seeds
in the parts of your yet to be healed
psyche, where your soul is dying
to ignite and flourish out from.
it means for you to learn what color
you are sowing and what colors you need
to really weave together the wavelength
of light that shines through little by little.
as if to blend in with your surroundings
makes it so that you could more easily live.
as if making gentle creaks on wooden floors
threatens the exposure of your neediness.
needs to be heard and to be present and to be held
up by something like the ground and the earth.
as if that is just too much to ask: to just be alive.
you need more than believing your un-weight
will naturally bring more rightness than wrong.
you deserve more than tiptoeing the lines
between self-starvation and absolute freedom.