Writing from the inside is a bit like singing a song while treading water.
Some days it’s easy enough — the lake is placid, the waves slow and palatable. Other days it takes a bit more focused attention to tread and write as the seas roll dark, and fast, and deep.
On these days, it’s so much easier to take the bird’s eye view of one’s own experience. To fly up into the clear air of mind, away from the wet waters of the belly. To where the waves seem almost containable, or at least distant.
But what fun is that!? Where’s the art?! I grow bored and tired at the thought, with heavy wings.
I don’t have words for this womb of weather. But my body has much to say. It can move, can be danced. And the dancing heals rifts, blend elements. Let the body be the water as the foot makes love to earth and the breath gives life to air. Moving, swirling, crying, reaching, yes. There is room for it all in the dance.
Dancing the movement of questions, losses, potentials — giving birth, letting go, resurrecting… reaching out with moving arms and daring to say: “I want”….
In this song, in this dance, there is no fathomable aloneness. We are all, in the depths of our ocean bellies, simply dancing and reaching for questions.
Some days it’s easy enough — the lake is placid, the waves slow and palatable. Other days it takes a bit more focused attention to tread and write as the seas roll dark, and fast, and deep.
On these days, it’s so much easier to take the bird’s eye view of one’s own experience. To fly up into the clear air of mind, away from the wet waters of the belly. To where the waves seem almost containable, or at least distant.
But what fun is that!? Where’s the art?! I grow bored and tired at the thought, with heavy wings.
I don’t have words for this womb of weather. But my body has much to say. It can move, can be danced. And the dancing heals rifts, blend elements. Let the body be the water as the foot makes love to earth and the breath gives life to air. Moving, swirling, crying, reaching, yes. There is room for it all in the dance.
Dancing the movement of questions, losses, potentials — giving birth, letting go, resurrecting… reaching out with moving arms and daring to say: “I want”….
In this song, in this dance, there is no fathomable aloneness. We are all, in the depths of our ocean bellies, simply dancing and reaching for questions.
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