I live my life through the words I write
Hovering over the page
filled with worry
of wasting my time
of producing nothing of value
finally, after all this time, realizing
that I don’t have to offer
what I believed.
I can no longer be afraid
of making shitty art.
Art is art.
Holding back, holding out,
for the perfect words to come
has led to weeks of nothingness.
Making the less-than-desirable, the difficult,
the imperfect,
moves me forward.
I don’t need to ask for permission
to try something new,
to experiment,
to try surfing a new wave
despite never stepping on a surfboard.
What am I here for in this life
if not to change, to flow,
to find myself over and over again
as she evolves from minute to minute.
I will follow her everywhere.
Give my mind a bread crumb
immediately
it wants the entire loaf.
What next thing should we do?
How will each detail look?
What will the 15th step be?
One flake of snow
growing into a snowman
in less than a minute.
For goodness sake, just slow down.
Stay here, in this moment,
without worrying and planning for a future
that might not happen.
Appreciate the here and now
without wanting to become bigger.
One bread crumb,
one snowflake,
one at a time.
I lost her
I wonder where she went
why she felt the need to get away.
I have been separated from this page
it feels like an eternity
do I remember how to do this?
Extending compassion
into a space hollow and dark
offers light,
light to guide me back.
Forced to take a step back,
to slow down, slow way down.
My body has made it clear
she cannot keep up any longer.
I remember a time where I could do all this and more
but times have changed.
My body has changed. I have changed.
Tending to her injuries,
reinforcing the structural integrity,
I whisper apologies
and promises to do better, to be better.
Change has forced itself upon me
and I must accept it.
I am walking along an unmarked trail
through the forests of a mountain range
where tree roots extend and appear
at the tip of my foot,
where boulders roll down the hillside
kicking up dust to infiltrate my eyes,
where I look for any small sign
of grass and dirt worn down by feet before me,
for I have not seen a sign for some time.
I hear the calls of animals
jostling through the leaves and branches.
Though I cannot see them
i assume them as more powerful than I,
with strength, size and a desire to kill
I cannot match.
Trees close in on me
as leaves become thick and air becomes dense.
I welcome it.
The pressure slows down my racing heart
and forces my chest to unravel.
Weigh heavy on me.
The only way out
is to keep along the invisible path
I make with each step forward,
whether small, side-stepped or stumbled.
I will know lightness again.
Bring your focus to one thing, one task.
Put the phone down,
turn off the TV,
find peace in the silence.
Place a pen upon a sheet of paper
and write.
Write until your eyes see clearly.
Write until your head stops spinning.
Write until your chest relaxes.
Write for as long as you need.
Stop running away from that which scares you
especially when
you know it to be your pathway
to freedom.
Every once in a while
things change.
The routine we once carried out automatically
requires revision.
Can we take the moment to appreciate
how nothing can stay the same
and how sometimes
it’s putting ourselves first
that invites the water to ripple?
Waters need to ripple
to help the river flow.
This last attempt will go as planned
but this time, according to my schedule.
My body says she’s ready,
and I believe her.
I trust her.
I know she’s looking out for me.
May the weeks unfold ahead
as they are meant.
With my whole body,
I trust.
Dawning Words 