Journal Entry, April 16

April 17, 2019

"The heart breaks and it breaks 

and it lives by breaking.

It is necessary to go through dark and deeper dark

and not to turn."

 

-from the Testing-Tree but Stanley Kunitz

 

Are we afraid to FEEL?

 

Today I was feeling frustrated, enraged, contemplative, sad, and unsure. Among many other feelings... I felt big waves of heat rising out of my body... the pain in my neck and head subsided during this time. I believe it was because I was allowing them to express themselves through my body? I sensed that instead of holding it in, instead of staying cold, closed, I was emanating this heat from within. 

 

There is a strong creative force within all of us. We use it daily, but not always to it's full capacity. I wonder what could be just underneath everyone once we step into that deep sensation? How could we be if given permission to feel?

 

I have also found that when I truly feel, the pressure of my allowance pushes up through my body, passing through my diaphragm, pulsing through my heart -breaking it and expanding it simultaneously, as is necessary for such change- and moving through my throat and into my vision. Sometimes if I am not compassionate with these movements, I will be left with a headache of un-resolve. Eventually that will settle back into aching feet, reminding me to get grounded and trust Mother Earth.

 

Heres a draft of a poem, free form and flow:

 

Dried Up Spirit

 

I often feel so far away from

Weaving rivers

Clear waters

The connective tissue

to saturate in my tears

 

The river-bed has been dry for

6 months

My throat is the basin in parched sun

Where birds once drank

Now caked in mud from abandoned honeybag ant-hills

 

My lessons are shriveled up in the dusty sand

Footprints stirring around the Gum Tree

No body there to greet me

Why don't the spirits sing to me?

 

A single cloud in the expanse above

drifts

so still, but with a ferocity faster than no eye can see

Maybe there is a song for me?

Even if it is lost in the dry blue and red desert sea.

 

A song leaves my lips 

W h o  a m  I ?

Dancing on my sapless lips

The Sacred answers

"Right below the tendrils of your breath"

 

The spirit stood singing back to me

Soaked, simmering, waiting deep beneath my feet

Far enough away my tongue could not taste

Close enough for my skin to always have felt

 

Here is my body

Sitting in the local library

made upon dried river beds

people and species laid to rest

 

The lizard, the caterpillar, the fly, the kite, and the magpie

The wandering children

The language

The fences

The tables and glass separations

The rainless reflections

The dark black and blonded hair

The discomfort that is impossible not to bare

 

But just there.

Right there!

In the fleeting grief of my breaking heart

I find it all

 here.

 

c.c.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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