Why are we so pretty, so self-contained, so elegant?
Why do we have to be so put together, so polished, saying all the right things in the right moments to craft a conversation?
Why are we constantly told to put pink put sparkles on our pain?
Sometimes, I just want to rip that to bits.
I want to relinquish every ounce of control and insecurity and falseness, upheld only to look impressive to the suffocating chariots of society.
How free can I be?
How much can I feel?
Those are the questions that dance in my mind, to the constant tango of my fiery heart.
I just want to explode from the cherry depths of my soul
And feel the infinite galaxies of truth that trickle inside me in the most unexpected moments.
And not hold back a single ounce---
Not even at all
And let the waves crash and break on the surface of my skin, covering me in salt and electricity.
And let the tears trickle down my body like a stream
Passing through the boulders of my bones
The way that water always finds a way through anywhere.
I want to flow
A crashing sea
A calm, muddy pond
A thunderous waterfall that slams onto rocks below from fifty feet
I want to feel.
I want to f*cking explode
And let all this pressure go from the inside
All the expectations and templates for what I should do; how I should behave.
Do you see the steam rising from my ears as I frantically type these words?
As I shake
And do things deemed “unacceptable” by the power-hungry kings of society.
If only they knew how powerful we were...
For there is an infinite flux of energy beneath
Our exhausted resignation.
Our cold, numbed apathy.
It’s the power contained in the feelings we don’t want to feel; we don’t know how to feel; we don’t know if we can feel---
Because as we stand there,
And let the waves of emotional intensity rip through us
We see how much we can really face; how much we can really feel.
Because we won’t crumble or die
We might tremble, yell, sweat, and shed our skin
Parts of us may come to pass away
But we will stand tall
And breathe into it
And let it happen
And we will think, "Hell, I didn’t know I was that strong. That solid..."
But we always have been.
It’s the fear of feeling that keeps us stagnant and blah and stuck
Cascade through the liquid memories that lurk and shimmy in your consciousness.
Pulse with them, like an ameba
Slither through the depths of insurmountable darkness like a snake
Cry those tears that carved empty walls on the inside
In this way
Be a shaman for yourself
And be a lighthouse beacon
So that parts of your formerly shattered
May find their way back home to you.
We are meant to be so much more alive
So much more vibrant
So much more colorful
Than the hum drum boring lies we have settled for
We feel it, a clanging desperation in our bones---
An ancient hunger, an antiquated thirst.
So go in
And be free.
Let all of that energy return to you---
Feel it coat your skin in goosebumps
It’s the pure, hot soul of electricity
Don’t second-guess it.
Don't even explain it or label it.
Just let it soak into you.
Delight in it.
In all the hidden, masked aspects of who you are.
The ones that sing with darkness
The ones that beat to the drums of only truth.
They all just want to be heard.
What seems so chaotic and challenging
And waking up
It’s remembering what it is
Have hearts that feel, that experience, that love deeply, that scream, and shout and cry and moan.
There is infinite energy that pulses inside of you.
Don’t settle for chronic boredom. Numbness. Or apathy.
You are the medicine.
The lantern, the way through lives inside you. It always has.
Open that pandora’s box in your chest
Be seduced into the palms of healing
Face it all
Taste your heart.
Let your tears be maps that show the way.
Fall to your knees and stop knowing all the answers.
Our return to humanness is the magic.