To Soak in Quiet Wisdom.


Unabashed blooming is the theme song of the spring, woven into the pulsing radiance of the flowers. 

The hues outnumber my thoughts.

Pleasure drips. I catch it on my tongue. 

I sway side to side suggestively arching my back. 

I don’t hide at all. 

“What is this?” I wonder. This growing sense of something strange and all-encompassing and unfamiliar, yet so lovely.

It’s peace. Lushness. 

Me, unfurling, finally. 

I am still awash in uncertainty. 

But there is so much quiet within me. 

 That’s what feels most meaningful to return to after all the chaos I’ve faced. 

And in the spinning nebulas of chaos and the deep grit of change—the fire, yes, the fire—

It burned so hot for so long. 

I think of all the deaths 

It took

For me to be

Standing here today. 

Oh, those wild-eyed ruby flames that burned so hot for so long. 

And so much burned away—the magazine-like layers of all the plastered-on shit I never was. 

Who I thought I should be. What I thought I should say. It all piled up, like a poorly rendered papier-mache

Shedding those sticky should’s has led to the most sublime sense of quiet within me.  


Room to listen to the rippling wisdom floating in the vast oceans I forgot were inside of me. 

Tides come in and out, I am here. Sturdy. Deeply feeling. Strong. 

So there is not just fire and intensity and effort. I appreciate the fire—-

It brought me to the water. 

Because isn’t that what we really search for? 

Peace in settling into our skins, a peace we can share, tenderly and brilliantly with others. 

Not psedo-empowerment. Not power-over others. Not being the best, the richest, the thinnest, the most successful, and on and on. 

Not being sparkly, dressed to impress with our so-called spirituality.


We search for that which cannot be easily named. 

We search, we yearn for a deep-seated realness. For that sense of seemingly-elusive quiet. 

It doesn’t always slap us in the face. 

The world does that enough already! 

This is quiet—

A rolling whisper, a deep wave, a slight, sweet breeze laced with the scent of honeysuckle. 

This at-home feeling inside our bones. 

Now that’s undeniable.  

No one can touch this—our soul-drenched essence contained in flesh but speckled with humans and tenderness and stardust. 

No one can take it away. 

It is ours. 

And it roars with quiet wisdom. 

The kind that doesn’t have to prove itself. 

It’s timeless

It’s vast, limitless 

It just is. 

Oh, just one moment of swimming in those golden waters—

That’s what we wait lifetimes for. 

It’s that powerful. That deep. That healing. 

May we soak in that at-home-in-our-bones feeling. 

May our masks and facades fall to the side. 

May we welcome the fresh and cooling waters of who we really are. 

May we remember what really matters: truth, caring gestures, uncontrollable laughter with our loved ones, rest, simple moments alone with ourselves, a good cup of tea, being in awe of the heartbeat, breath and beauty of nature. 

May we anchor into ourselves. 

May we embrace the quiet moments

Pulling them tighter to soak in

And be held

By the raw, silken hands

Of something