This Invisible Force
She Will Not Be Quiet: A (mostly unedited) daily writing practice
This Invisible Force
I try to will the words to come, but that never works. Instead, I close my eyes, lift my body to the sun, listen closely to what the birds are saying, listen closely to what the wind is saying as she moves her invisible breath through the oak leaves, through these lashes, this graying hair— through the part of me who is trying so hard to steer. It's funny, maybe ridiculous is a better word, how we often only believe in what we can see. But we can't see the wind, and my god, what a force she is. You can't see the fire, the inferno that burns in my belly, my chest, my womb, but I assure you — it is burning burning burning. And, from the look in my sisters' eyes this morning, it burns in them too. Can you feel it? This force will rip the roof off your small ideas, your tiny, troubled, little head. Will burn burn burn away all you think you know.
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Julia, am bowing to the wind and to the fire in your words today. Let's all start a revolution of reverence, shall we? Let's cherish the light and spread the light for which we are all, at least potentially, candles.
This morning, as a passenger in a friend's car, I duetted with that friend on '80s tunes. A song released when I was 15 and when J was still three years from being born. Simple joy, shared.
I need to cultivate silence and gratitude, as well. So thank you!