What I Really Need
She Will Not Be Quiet: A (mostly unedited) daily writing practice
What I Really Need
Jotting from my journal…. Day #41 of daily writing/sharing
What I really need is to pause inside of a moment and breathe. Breathe my belly big. I need to breathe love deep into my bones, breathe love out to the whole of the world. Breathe in love. Breathe out love. I really need to be where I am, pen on page, coffee next to me, candle lit and dancing on the windowsill. I need to breathe all of me here. Body here now. Mind here now. Breathing in again. Notice the newness, the freshness, the oxygen moving into and out of these lungs. I am here. I am here. I am here. My mind is not a nice place. There are mean voices there, lies and stories that keep me pressed down, on the floor, unable to move. Heavy. Leaden. I need to live here in the real—the REAL—with what I can see and hear and smell an taste and touch. This breath, not that breath. This moment, not that moment. What I really need is to look deep into the eyes of another, to see, to be seen. Depth of connection. Seeing and being seen. To listen so deeply that the hard parts soften, open, melt. I really need to be in that wide open field Rumi speaks of—that field beyond wrongdoing and rightdoing—wildflowers abundant, birdsong symphony, sky bright and burning, sun kissing my cheeks, my shoulders, my belly, my thighs, my toes. An afternoon stretched out, time with God, gods, angels. Playful, silly, laugher bubbling up and out. Spilling all over the sun-soaked ground. Light, airy, nothing in the way. What I really need is one deep breath, after one deep breath, to be nowhere nowhere nowhere other than here and here and here. Here is the only place peace, love, joy, lightness, laughter can find me. It is never anywhere else. It is never anywhere else. What I really need is to paint my nails the color of a robin's beautiful egg, lips the color of rhubarb, a voice that is allowed to be all of the way here. A voice that sings hallelujah at the top of her lungs—seabirds joining, a sky so full of song every budding thing blooms at once.
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To see and to be seen. Yes, wholesouledly.