Abundance

I ponder and prance upon the enormous boom and bloom of abundance. It is the dinner plate dahlia with its mane of 151 pink silk petals. It is the sea at sunrise just before summer when we wake early and run barefoot on the cold, wet sand. It is invisible. It is often unintentional. It is as the stars are in the endless universe - brilliant little lights in the pitch-black night. It is like breath - nothing and yet, everything. It is a bubbling of joy and acceptance. It is a still dance and a silent symphony. It is a vibration, a hum, a beat, a buzz. It is a tide of blackbirds as they move like a wave on the wind. 

 

Liberation

On my birthday, I wrote. 

I am 38. And I am a wise old wild child. 

This was my liberation statement. 

I yearn for liberation…from costumes, awkward interactions, and inauthentic actions. I want to be naked in my raw radical truth. I yearn to be everything, and yet nothing. Oh, how vague and vulgar. I yearn to be free as the fleeting flowers. Free as the fleeing feathered geese. This is the wise in me. And this is the wild in me. Liberation is a peak, a perch of earth, and a ragged nest of spirit. It is a place where I need no validating word, no smile, no nod even. True liberation is found on the inside. From there, it burns. I am the liberation I seek. It is the song sung from the marrow of my pure and ancient soul. 

And so again I say goodbye to the push and pull of social media. And so once again I say I am hidden in the solitude of old life. I can tell you that I drink joy every night. But you don't need to know that. You don't need to envy me. Nor do I need your envy of me.