Waldeinsamkeit (German): The feeling of solitude, being alone in the woods, and a connectedness to nature.
these words remind me of the ways in which i want to be like you, trees of the woods. Read More
that is what i wish to be.
like you, with my feet in the dirt and my arms open-handed towards the sky.
for, like you, i too come from dirt.
like you, i was made with a makers hands.
hands that fashioned my spirit and soul to intrinsically love being exactly here.
here, in-between and next-to your rough skin and the before-during-after of you undressing and redressing your arms and torsos with the garments of leaves and moss— according to the season.
here, amidst the light-to-dark dappling of the shade of your embrace.
here, where i am reminded of that beginning point of my creation and how i came to be.
here, that my solitude brings with it feelings of release, ease, tranquility and comfort rather than ones of loneliness, restriction, fear and isolation.
i love how being here in the depth and wildness of you brings me that gift.
of grounding in myself.
my actions, inimical to the well being and survival of my heart.
but my mind, my mind
tells me to forge on, ignoring the rhythmic warnings of my heart. Read More
which is, what always gets me into trouble.
ignoring my heart and the morse code of warning it beats out to me, messages meant for my mind.
but my mind, my mind,
is stalwart to its mission.
it knows best.
for its very nature is to know things after all.
(so it tells me)
heart will catch up
it says a lot of things, my mind.
he was towheaded, face abloom with freckles that i could see even through my windshield as i pulled onto the street. he was crawling up out of the ditch to the head of a little miniature play car he was driving around the yard. Read More
he couldn't have been more than five.
as he turned towards the sound of my car, eyes alert and inquisitive, he waved.
rotating his open palm from the wrist, fingers straight and insistent in their communicated greeting. the learned and carefully practiced wave of adolescence.
the suddenness of his reaction to greet me was more instantaneous than i expected. it was almost as if there was a familiarity in his turning toward me, as if he knew me and had been expecting my arrival.
i wrote the post below one week ago, and meant to post it then but didn't have internet again until now. Read More
i am home now, from the below mentioned travels, and i find myself even more in need of the mantra at the bottom of this post than i was this time a week ago.
two weeks of concentrated travels and time spent with people and new experiences was a lot for me. i loved and reveled in every second of it, but now, settling back home i'm experiencing one hell of a come-down and withdrawal in a weirdly backwards and unexpected way.
as someone who is used to and thrives in being alone more often than not, i've been disoriented by my lack of desire for it after this trip. however there's so much i have to process and understand from both New Orleans and Atlanta that i'm only able to do by myself. a lot of wonderful things happened while i was away, especially in the way of eye opening conversations with people. there were a LOT of those. perhaps my feeling of overwhelm with that aspect especially is due in part to me being such a words person, but i also think there was some heightened level of importance in many of the things discussed with both new and old friends these last few weeks.
that thing. Read More
the identification of which everyone always talks about gloriously obtaining when you recognize the thing it is you love doing more than anything else. or, at least, more than most things.
the discovery of which, allegedly, comes when you lose track of time doing said thing.
beautiful new moon Read More
you are a welcome face
at my window.
you greet me always with a consistent serenity
pure of face and,
should you have one,
(though perhaps suggesting you have such a mercurial organ is a defilement to your etherial and constant nature)
i reach the end of the shadows and that is when i feel the sun warming my back, reaching me finally, as it had crept higher than the trees. i feel its heat through the worn wool grey sweater i often wear (admittedly one of the more unflattering pieces in my wardrobe and yet something i've held onto for eight years now. which is a thing i am always fighting—my attachment to material things).
the suns fingers slide down my body, starting at my hair, falling down my back, slipping down my calves and then being kicked off by my heels. Read More
i have been away from this space for quite some time. Read More
it wasn't intentional at first.
but with each passing day, week, and then proceeding month(s), it felt harder and harder to be back here.
i am in a place of transition.
i've said that to a lot of people lately.
but i don't really feel that it aptly reflects my true state. a transition implies that you know where you are going, you have a direction you are headed, something you are working towards, you are moving from this to that.
well, this is the middle. Read More
the in-between and un-done.
i know you get uncomfortable here.
but it's necessary.
for you can't get to the end without going through a middle to get there
the vessel of me— i often think of my body in this way. Read More
as a container.
as something that is capable of holding and harboring and keeping but also having the ability to be empty and having things poured out of it.
namely thoughts, actions, emotions.
but i also just love the word vessel— as it’s another name for a ship.