As much as romantic love is a catalyst as an opportunity for expansion and deepening our relationship to ourselves, it is also one of infinite relationships that allow us to uncover and bloom in this way.
May you rise in love with yourself and stay in love with yourself.
“Say it in earth language,” said The Sky to The Moon. Moon sang in silver water to get through. Rivers sang for miles, and seas sang deep, paced and erupting, still and steep. For fire to do it’s opening–to cleanse, to run, the sky sought The Sun–The Sun who dances in his room to the Song of Flame, and the lyrics are all of the Holy names, given to him, the Joy-For-Joy’s-Sake Lover.
I am not afraid to love so big in this way. Come, leave, love me near, and love me when far away (because we do not just “stop” loving, despite what they say). Either way or that way or this, I am cradled so close to my lover and nothing can be taken or given that gets in the way of my dancing.
The sheer Completeness of you and of me in this very moment, and THIS moment, HERE as your gaze is going over these words–you are here, reading this, in your skin, on your chair, or in bed or in a tree perhaps, and you cannot be back there or far ahead over there, so you might as well be right here.
I allow the compassion to overflow, set myself free, and it is shown to others because of how deeply I have shown it to myself.
I allow myself to enjoy the present moment simply because it is here right now, and let that simpleness be what carries me into the next moment. I enjoy doing this right now, so I am going to do it. This song, this word, this petal of a thing so made of the world that it becomes my bed just to be singing.
Nobody on earth will value my time more than I value my time. I am about to be a bit “greedy” (by an exaggerated definition given to the word) with the way I spend my days and nights. I am going to watch as I am restored with balance, and stay here throughout my moments regardless of who is around, or not around. Earth language: I am going to choose to stay here when it feels like there is more exploring to do. Everything that comes out of me feels like being on a hike turning stones and rocks over to see what is under there.
It is not my responsibility to speak anyone’s truth, except my own. I am accountable for only myself, and what you do with your soul is none of my business. I am strong because of the opportunities to put into practice the love I learned of, because of the exercises, because of surrender, because of being weapon and shield-less in a room of daggers, because of the asking and The Seeking, and eventual trusting that I would always be shown, as if the bricks and soft grassway is spread out before me with every step, whether I see the next step or not. I got into the habit of asking an invisible force within and around me “what would bring the best possible outcome for everyone involved?” I have been asked by people who know about my life how I am so strong, and I have always said something vague because it feels mostly like something that “just happened”. But I am strong because of patience.
Lately I have been taking notes on what makes me feel this or that, do this or that. One of the things I’ve got a handle on now is how important it is to share my voice, even when that means repeating the same 4 words in different melodies for a few weeks, unable to use actual sentences, (because some pages are like that, and sometimes they are whole chapters). My “voice” in all capacities of the word–I have to pull the nets up from the seabed and welcome what I see. Then, I have another note on my mind lately praising of moments I choose to do what my therapist refers to as “staying in your body,” and I maneuver my steps and words to where they are operating from both a childlike and wise place in my heart, amongst the people around me, no matter why I was there or how it came to be, or what the rules are. I am simply in myself, having exchanges with the world around me. My only responsibility is to stay in my body, and staying here is always a safe place to be.
I allow my daydreams to be the invitations.
Facing the walls she found her shadow, facing the sea she saw herself in the sky, who told the story better than she could.