At home, in your zone,
Snuggling softly simply for joy,
Minute to minute,
Day to day, in the delicate presence of being.
A strong sense of self,
Wilting forward to dip into sunlight,
Forgetting voids of helplessness,
Out of control, appearing like death.
You sit there motionless,
To soak and nourish like cucumber,
Fresh and crisp, an easy beginning,
How cold is it to start again, you wonder.
The invisible visibly haunts those rigid,
Stiff hands grope desperately,
Injuring fellow travelers,
Why are they here too, you wonder.
A tiny speck of dust,
Glinting, squinting –
Floating serenely over the black fuzz that stretches into the mind’s eye,
Coating every inch of pathway with thought and wonder.
How might one meander such uncertainty?
Surely I cannot just plant one foot in front of the other so simply?
What if cartoon crocodiles climb out of the path and engulf my light?
If there were such things I may need to hibernate.
Finally I shall follow the dancing lint,
They are odd but they are also light among a dark horizon,
Full of lies but my eyes are tainted and prone to organize,
Not like yours that glimmer with a million futures.
Seven stepping-stones reach from home,
It’s not what you think and it’s not where I left,
I’ll be fine from here, you see that tree? I know it, I know my way now.
I’ve never been here but somehow I have.
The pelting gems of superior melt silence abruptly,
Yet also with such tenderness I could have sworn it was my own heartbeat.
Voices poke through the dark sheet of stillness,
Pausing only for the acceptance of my own presence,
They remind me what I already know.
It’s as if I can see my life in fast forward,
But what is up is also down with round bits escaping the abyss,
Hesitating only to look back in soft remembrance,
Even the pain was right. Especially the pain was life.
The rise in light lifting up what already felt right,
What already felt home,
What already felt bold.
I am not sorry for your confusion,
I am sorry you do not know yourself,
And care more about your interpretation of me.
Ah, what a relief! I no longer hold you above me.
Your “simple” suggestions, as you like to call them, fall around me,
They drift softly to the ground and melt before my feet,
My aura illuminates the hostile home in which you hoped I’d freeze.
All was supposed:
That which cared for,
That which loved,
That which only was doing the best for.
Now I feel the ice crackling under my weight as I march into the night,
Staring at the wild wind whipping rouge,
The bright-eyed glimmer stealing full moon powers,
Gripping mittens release their hold,
Venturing further into the mystic,
Encountering an awe of both delight & peace.
The sticking snow reveals paths taken,
Of light & dark,
Love & pain,
Young & old.
But “simply” suggesting I know nothing shows the nothing you so simply desire,
For never have you sought to understand anything but what you hoped to find.
It happens without me even needing to think or try. When I interact with people, particularly when I first meet someone, I do this thing that comes automatically. I think most of us do it without even realizing actually and it has everything to do with energy. What I do is I look past their human face & try to gain insight into their ‘spirit face’. It’s going to be difficult to explain this and I may sound like a crazy person doing that, so bear with me. It’s not something that occurs with thought, though it seems to appear with light and feeling (energy). As soon as my brain registers a person’s facial features I take a ‘dive’ into a realm past the physical. The only way I can describe it is a visceral need to see past their mask for a glimpse into the real self. I get visualizations of light beaming from behind their face, making features more radiant. This realm I’ll call The Light. Here is where I find a few slivers (and sometimes a whole beam) of light, or rather their true self. How do I know it’s their true self? I guess I don’t really. However, my intuition tells me otherwise: I feel love emanating from them instantly, and this is then where the element of feeling chimes in.
It isn’t the same with everyone. It depends on how high someone’s defenses are. If they are on guard it might take a bit more time, and I may not have the chance. However I find more than often I can, because when I approach people with that intention at heart people can feel it. And this all happens within a matter of seconds. It was only now, by breaking it down, that I realized what was happening. Connecting with people like this is the most satisfying and sustainable experience, because when they do show you a glimmer of their true self, you are encouraging both the evolution of their consciousness and yours. Look for love and you’ll find it.
The petals have lost their touch,
Soft hardness & thick,
Velvet leather & earth scented,
The kind face turned away,
Whispering webs stretching across the unused,
The unaccepted abruptly vented,
But somewhere simply seemed too much,
And a time was tempting,
And now tea is too much.
The sitting & clinking,
The staring & thinking,
Creaking chairs while sweet disappears,
A milky insight in the dim light.
Then two fall away to find hindsight,
Only a memory.
Instead of a late night munchy sesh I decided to communicate.
Communicate the complexities of being a highly sensitive introvert. Or not.
It can’t be easy being me. But that’s what everyone thinks isn’t it? How dare we think these things that are so saturated in self pity, but how could we not? We tend to be naturally nurturing, caring and believing in those things that are good. Even if you deny it over and over. You are naturally good-natured. Society, your circumstances, experiences, bitter people….they taught you otherwise. I know you knew that anyways, inside. Even if you’ve never told anyone in your life but yourself.
At the end of the day, we are by ourselves. Kids are tucked in, husbands and wives are fast asleep, boyfriends are snoring loud as mufuckas…and then here we are. Wide awake, thinking. Reflecting. Reminding, remembering. Ahh…the sweetness of late night reminiscence. It is quite painful, so why take part in it? Why not just be okay with today, and how it went. Today may have not been so great. But it was still a day, and we lived it. We are here in our beds, and we completed today.
Yes, you’ve heard it over and over…live in the present, be in the NOW. How cliche. How about we just stick with being okay, even if we’re not. You are here, you are feeling a certain way. And that’s fucking O.K.
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