I write from deep in my gut, from the root
that tethers me to the Earth.
I write to open my eyes and my heart.
I write to greet my Self; to access the
stifled, silenced me. The deeper, quieter,
truer Self than the one who shows up
to punch the clock every day.
I write to soothe my confusion
from the world, from the people in my life,
from circumstances I cannot control or explain.
I write to command my surface Self to take a back seat,
be quiet, watch, and listen.
I write to regulate and integrate; to disengage from distraction,
stress, grief, misperception, confusion.
I write to slip back into the ever flowing,
seamless stream of the Universe. In writing, I abandon
paddles, fins, rafts, buoys . . . yes, I remember
to float and be carried along by the stream
of my greater Knowing.
I write to strengthen and refresh my connection to my Self,
to the Earth, and to recall that—from whence I came
is also that which will heal me.
I write to share the joy of a bright blue summer sky,
the bliss of a fresh, warm breeze lifting my hair,
stroking my cheek, the quiet susurration of leaves above, full of
birdsong lullabies, confirming what I know in my heart to be true—
All is well.
I write to be perfectly, unapologetically, and utterly myself.