As these words fall between the four borders of this one single white digital page (a word document at the time of this writing), I know this to be a canvas. A place for my soul to express itself. What comes from me each week varies widely in depth and breadth. Sometimes it’s content-rich in actions, insights, and wisdom. Sometimes it’s sensual language running along on a journey with you as my sidekick, coloring images of personal experiences in nature, heart, and body. Today these words are an expression of my most present state.
I feel more whole and full than I’ve felt in a long time. I have a lingering embrace of not only my love in the flesh but also my soul’s love. She scooped me up this last week in a luscious escape in the woods with my partner. She guided and curated deep, heartfelt conversations. Words, truths, and longings explored with ease, tenderness, and love albeit necessarily riddled with seemingly ever-present insecurities and fears. And she sat me down to rest back in my home with an old book as my guide and teacher on this well-worn yet new, again, journey of soul work.
I’m deep in the whirlpool of musings regarding the craft of soul and bringing my soul’s work into the world. Understanding better than I have ever before what this means and what it entails. Ready, one would say, to continue on this journey with much greater conscious awareness, integrated presence, and courage. Prepared through my years of personal work to bring me straight to this point, on the precipice of encounter, awaiting a vision from the depths.
I have no answers today. Only a feeling, a way of being, and deep contemplations. At the same time, my physical body is tired from waking early and from my current position in my menstrual cycle. I acknowledge my physical state, and I nurture my body with what it needs to be alive and well today. I’m preparing to return to work for the next three days after being off for more than a week. This takes concerted effort to drawback in while remaining in touch with all the juicy bits that are still marinating. A continued practice. Until one day, my work and my joy know no difference. A vision I cling to with conviction as I await the understanding of my truest place in this world.
Until next time,