Near or far, wherever you are…

I know that it’s probably magic.

I massaged my body with homemade oils, and I let go of the thoughts that sought to kept me trapped in place. My life is perfect it seems from the outside, it seems as if I have been resting, it seems that it’s all secure. Yet why then does each day feel like another one that I gear up to face? I exercise, I eat breakfast, I meditate, I journal, I go to work, I smile and I laugh and I find the joy in the mundane, yet too I go home, I sit with a heavy heart, I dream dreams that I feel I need to recover from. I wake up the next day and I do it again. I face the day, I face the day, I face the day.

Today I woke up, and I faced the day. I stood on my front step and I looked out at the willow tree and I said “heal me. Guide me to grieve in the ways that I need. Make my day all that is needed for me to feel at peace within myself” and I let go and I surrendered. that was the only moment I left the house today. I have moved around, from room to room. I have changed the music, I have showered. I danced, I ate, I wrote, I rubbed oil on myself. My friends came over, we drank mead, we lit candles, we cuddled in bed. We laid on the ground as our faces were painted in a clay mask, and washed it off in the sink afterwards. We talked about dreams and how we want to be treated, I saw them as angels, I felt their wings, I felt their light. I felt my own, it shines so bright, yet still, still my heart is heavy as a stone. It drags against the bottom of the sea, my chest as the great chasm in which it is held.

I say to the void “maybe a partner would fix this” though I know that not to be true. “Maybe watching a video or a movie” though that is simply just a distraction form what is going on inside.

I sleep to find my true rest, maybe my dreams will tell me which way to go. Maybe they’ll have the answers that I need, maybe they’ll unlock the key to fix whatever feels broken and shattered within me, or maybe I’ll just have the space and the chance to just be. To just be.

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The story writes itself

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The strength of the fire lord, it burns within while the waters of the deepest sea rock me awake