Yesterday I wrote a very short story about a girl who was wide-awake. Today I fell into a deep sleep again. And now, with these words, the light turns on. I am flowing.
Sometimes I can’t believe how much our bodies experience.
Stress, the way it hovers in the chest, a heart-burning for some relief and yet there is that flyer to get done, the workshop to prepare, the one-to-one to sit with. There is always something more to do. And we are good at this doing, have spent years working at it.
Such pressure we feel to figure it all out, to make a living. All those stories we have, that we have to do it this way, or that.
What if we could love the words out of us?
This is what I teach. Taking care of ourselves with words, and more, finding the joy, the reverence for life, celebrating it all.
The hands keep going and it makes it better, these strokes of battered ink, it makes it all flow, keeps the heart pumping and the mind if not steady then prepared for the next question or reread.
And I am looking for something here. What? Love of course. Acceptance, and for this darn pain to go away. Aversion and clinging. It’s all here.
No vacations. Am I bitter? I need to meditate. What am I looking for outside of me?
There is nothing but this and everything around it. All life, with this pain and struggle and stubborn resistance and compassion in it.
How do you use words in your life? To communicate, express your feelings, or sell a product to your market niche?
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