I. Hate. That you made me choose.
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As I love and breathe, I cry.
I feel like an oil painting that never dries. My colors are changing or they are bleeding from one to the next. Sometimes taking shape, sometimes looking like noise. The salt water keeps everything wet. Sometimes, I think… that says more than the words I can find to describe it.
Boundless
I’ll meet you where the stars kiss the end of time.
Wounded feelings
I grasp at them like straws sometimes. And try to shove them in a proverbial glass bottle. It’s hard, they don’t all fit. I get frustrated. They cut me. Then I either want to throw the bottle behind me or smash it altogether…
A heart, dropping beneath the sand
I’m surprised … how silent the wave is until it crashes upon me. Sometimes, you come in waves.
On a walk I noticed this tree and,
Humans are like this tree and this tree is like life. Look to the branches. What do you see when you trace them? …Full of bumps and ugly twists, spots of beauty if that’s how you define it, dark holes and light bark, unpredictable twisty messiness, unfurling out into our own expansion when we simply follow the light and feel our roots. May we remember that we don’t have to be anything else, standing without apology like this tree.
Rich soil and sun…
Maybe I’ll be a sunflower.
A favorite something
I think my favorite end to the day has become a walk in the park a little before sunset, followed by an orange & poetry in a weird little 5$ thrift bought chair that I contort my legs up and over, feeling just a little bit like… I don’t have an age.
A favorite something
I think my favorite end to the day has become a walk in the park a little before sunset, followed by an orange & poetry in a weird little 5$ thrift bought chair that I contort my legs up and over, feeling just a little bit like… I don’t have an age.
3.11.20
54321. Go. Go go go go go. Do. Doing is good. Sustainability in the physical sense. Achieved.
Doing. Action. A performance.
I wonder… if a person is always performing, where does authenticity have room to grow? How does one perform and be genuine? If a person is always on… doesn’t it become a string of acts? A performance?
Acts of slowness. Solitude. Vulnerability and feeling. Just a ||. Does a person need time to confront the self, the one that is always going? Enough moments of not performing, and perhaps, a person can have the space – the energy – to be with their self. Say hello. Maybe enough of these moments can bring this other self closer to our doing selves so that in as many moments as possible, we are not just acting with intention, but wholesomely. Spiritually. Softly.
Couple of Aubrie Musings and Heartstrings 