My romantic and wild heart, loves to write.
This early morning writing time, a personal sacred ritual, typically happens without the physical presence of another, although the energy of other…often drives and inspires the desire.
This is writing from desire. Having touched into connection with love and romance this year, into connection with men, all sorts of desire has been stirred. And in the stirring the writing emerges and wafts like a tiny trail of smoke from a stick of incense, potent, filling the room, evoking what wants to come onto the page, what emerges from my heart.
Watching the early morning snow fall over a bleak gray sky. Here inside it is the essence of cozy always.. cozy being a default setting for home, for me, for winter. Coffee in the giant white glazed mug with a band of rough earthen texture at the bottom. The ‘coffee’ not what a true coffee lover seeks maybe, watered down, no more the beloved heavy whipping cream. The almond coconut milk mixture a poor substitute I resign myself to as a nod to my body’s sensitivities and preferences. Dairy free, plant based, sometimes I am annoyed at what can feel a bit precious, finicky, and yet is really just a kind of love and support for my precious and incredibly loyal body.
The music, also a constant. This early morning mix, a deliberate creation of mood, of sound, a desire to evoke something, a longing to feel a certain way. Knowing how to create it, how to engineer and summon it, the right parts romance, longing, comfort and contentment, of something that stirs the heart with remembering and with promise.
Thirty years ago there would have also been smoke. Cigarettes. That addiction and the seduction of related rituals gone these many years. The sensate memory of bringing them to touch briefly against my lips, bringing filter and smoke into my mouth, my lungs, somehow experienced as deep sensual pleasure, Able to finally leave them behind in my 33rd year. Never danced with them again.. from the ages of 11 to 33 and then never ever again.
A healthy respect for the spell of addiction.
There is little that satisfies me as deeply as writing at this time of morning, especially if it’s still dark. The lamplight softening the edges, the subconscious mind still available in such close proximity to sleep.. the edges of what’s real, what’s true still blurry.. a foot still in the symbolic, the not quite literal or logical. The mind and body still emerging from the Dream Time.
There is a sort of writing that feeds me. It is this mix of the sensual, the detailed, the past and present fluid, the heart open, the telling of truth without holding it back, and yet the physicality somehow prettying it up a bit. The feel of the romantic casting a glow, a bit symbolic, often archetypal and mystical, the destined, the knowing, the stream of words free and non-linear, not always clear the destination… This is how I love to write. Without destination, without a plan.
This solitary practice has become an immersion in self, in presence, in the present moment which becomes like a fairy tale mirror, showing many pieces, thematic, rerouting what is shown, what you see, what you notice, deep looking, holding the gaze until more is shown, until the image shimmers and the information is received.
My romantic wild heart. Tall men with light eyes.
A telling behind what is obvious. In an extraordinary conversation with an extraordinary being this last week, I heard myself saying “I just want it to make me feel something” about music or whatever we were talking about, I don’t remember. It was in the connection, it was in the naming of a kind of desire that we were describing together. Beyond intellect, beyond the mind, it was about the currency of how deeply something can evoke connection.. about dancing in the visceral, opening to the vulnerable and the raw, the sometimes primitive, the not always comfortable, and yet the measure of it being about how deeply did it make us feel. It was about telling the truth about what we longed for. I love that. We get it wrong, what we think are small details, are anything but.
The man who understood the craving, seeing my heart. My own, seeing his.
As always, I have seen so much this past year. And more and more am seeing that it all plays out in the energetic, on a soul level, that what is happening cannot easily be interpreted at the level of mind. That I am being asked over and over to shift into knowing, into symbolic sight where things have meaning and intention and there is a different order of things.
I see it everywhere, in the natural world, in the grimy despicable world of politics, in the intimate relationships with clients, with these men who find me. Each encounter rich with meaning, with symbols, with divine timing, with a message ready to be delivered, with an array of physical and emotional responses and choices laid out.
The choices to revert to fear and primitive survival reactions, the other end of the spectrum to stay in the mystical and incredible detail of how things show up and play out, the sense of ‘you can’t make this stuff up’ always. It all fascinates my equally empathic and intuitive girlfriends in our daily musings about it all. My K. helping me stay grounded, congruent, patient, compassionate, devoted to staying present for all of it.
The gifts of the writing always available. The gift of true expression, the gift of connection to my own heart, the gift of word-smithing, choosing and selecting just the right one, the flow of thoughts that are of no particular order with no particular destination a spectacular sort of freedom. In the still dark morning, with that gorgeous soundtrack and those harmonies, with the energies of those men still in my energy field. I am not alone, I am seen and heard, I am free in these moments, solely myself, dancing with these words. It is truly romantic in all of the best ways.
Dancing with what is here now, with whatever it is that is in front of you, has become a guiding choice for me. Want me to show you? Want a little romance of your own? Gorgeous rituals or strategies to hold you firmly in the gorgeous love between you and yourself you and the world? Come on! Reach out to me on my Contact page, or on Facebook and I’ll schedule you for a beautiful Illumination Session and we’ll get some things cleared and on a new track.
I want that for you.
My love to you, all love, always,
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