Art by Francis Baxter
Having the courage to feel it all. God it’s tender. It’s as if I’ll die if I let it in. It carves so deeply into my flesh.
I fought and won. Can I win again? Leave no room for doubt my beautiful marilyn. Yes, I know… you most often don’t see the beauty. You carry such heaviness. It’s not all yours you know. You’ve been told that before. I know. But yeah it’s impossible to distinguish between it all. Your given nature ~ your blessing and your ‘curse’.
How to feel it all? Give it space to unfold. I’m scared of it. It tried to take me once. But I fought it and won. And I was very small. I’m bigger now… yet weaker in some ways. At least in my physical body. I need to call on the strength I have. Or maybe it’s the mercy. Allowing those tears that’ve been stored… for how long? Maybe generations.
Did I ever see my mother cry? No I didn’t… that I remember. Stoic, dealing with whatever’s served. Admirable maybe… wise? No.
The isolation is crowding me in. It carries imprints from times before. Places I don’t want to go. But what’s inside is there… I cannot make it go away. I need to welcome it into the light. I’m not sure I’m brave enough.
The terror’s being stirred.
Yeah makes no sense to my logical mind. There’s always been a war between the two.
Nature will be my saviour… as it has been my home. Alone in the forest… the wolves my companions. The trees and plants and magick places… always held me. I’m used to that. The human stuff is harder. It’s not my realm of expertise. The hermit on the hill. Who flits outside from time to time.
But scurries back to safety.
How do I navigate this space. The echo’s of the fear, the terror. The vibration of death around me. Inside and out… is way too concentrated. What do I need… to keep myself afloat?
How do I charter this stormy ocean?
What do I need… how do I call it in?
Maybe for now… a bike ride down to the nature reserve… and do a FB live to my sisterhood.
Lotsa Love to me 💜🌺💜