Here We Are. Listen.

Here we are.  Listen.  Listen, listen.

Be still and know yourself as god and goddess.  Stop fidgeting.  Relax.  Find your body again.  Stretch up into it.  Inhabit it.

Know yourself as true because you are living as true.  Know the difference between a crutch and the power of your own legs.

Know the moon held in the circle made by your thumb and index finger.

Know paths of righteousness.  Know paths of dust and drudgery.  Know paths that twinkle like yellow brick roads, crusted with sapphires.  Know the mystic paths of your own hands.

Walk a while upside down on your hands, letting your feet be kissed by heaven, letting the soles of your feet look around.

Here we are.  Time is of the essence, so hurry up and sit.  Hurry up and be.  Stop squandering your moments in anxiety.

Lower your heels; sink into the earth through your feet again.  Open your palms, and feel the pulse coming up through the lines on your skin.

You there. Yes you. You should put all of your eggs in one basket. Make the basket strong; weave it from light and the sinews of your own body.  Seal it with your tears and your sweat, the juice from your secret places.  Make it strong, and then put all of your creations there.  Let them grow.  Give them a home.  Don’t let your focus scatter too wide, not for now. You can make other baskets later; no one will stop you and the universe has an infinite supply of eggs.

So be tiny and light and wing-ed.  Be brushed by moss and lifted by love.

Dance like everyone is watching and you want to make it good.  Like you want to make it a gift worthy of the world.

Let the red mountains rise behind you, warm you at the back, kiss the nape of your neck and breathe upon you hot desert air to raise your hackles and flocks of geese from the bumps on your arms ’til you’re covered with tiny wings to take you to flight.

Here we are.

P.S.  From where this came and a writing prompt for you:

Sometimes words aren’t enough.  Sometimes I get trapped in the headiness, the think-iness, of words, and they just don’t get at the heart of what I need or what I want to express.  One of the best ways I’ve found of busting out of my own head and exploding into the vastness of my soul in writing is to play with images and let the visual lead me into the written.  Above is a piece of writing that emerged out of that process.

This morning, I did a writing retreat with a soulful, lovely writer, and part of our time together involved making two collages.  The theme or intention for the collages was to create two “guides” for ourselves, to offer direction for our writing and living in this moment.  The one collage I finished is below in the rather raw picture I took with my Mac, and those images definitely tapped into something raw for me.

After creating this compilation of images, the next step was to let them speak.  So using the prompt, “Here we are,” we wrote for ten minutes. And what’s above is what followed.

If you’re needing to loosen your pen and the inkwell in your heart, I highly recommend trying this.  Let me know how it goes.

 

Thank you so much for reading. You might notice that I don’t have a space for comments, but I’m certainly open to conversation about what’s written here. If you’re so inspired, feel free to start a conversation with me via the contact form on the homepage of this site.