One single droplet creates the explosion of vibrating layers of waves. The momentum of the droplet bounces on top of the water multiple times before it finally surrenders to breaking the soft surface and gets sucked down into the undertow, plunging further into the depths of the darkness. Like a rocket taking off into space.
As much as you try and tiptoe around the glassy, morning waters, you will still get your feet wet. You’re always a droplet, no matter how soft or how hard. You might not get sucked down to the very bottom of the unknown, but you will feel what it’s like to hold your breath underwater.
The waters will always have ripples.
The older I get, the more I understand that this life is about finding the space between the light and the dark. And trying to wrap my head around the fact that you can’t physically grasp the light and the dark because they are energies. I can absorb them. I can feel them. What I find is that the space between what I’m trying to grab is my very Being. So I can balance how much light I want; how much dark I can handle. My Being has been out of Being in service.
I’ve opened the doors to the dark while I shut the blinds for the light.
The world has hardened me with a stinging, restless pain and I cannot find the right size band-aid to put on. I am finding out the hard way that sometimes you have to let the boo boo’s and oowies heal without nothing. Let them get a little infected and gooey. Not too much though, just a little bit. Maybe then pick at the scab a little to remind yourself to take care of it the next time.
I wear my heart on my sleeve. And most times the world takes it and puts it on a stick and roasts it like a marshmallow in the burning heat of the fire of life. I give and I grow like the spirit of flowers and try to blossom towards the sun. But the people pick me. Taking without thanking. Or there’s the people who don’t notice the beauty of the blossom and walk right on by.
And sometimes that hurts more.
Sometimes I feel like a crafted globe sitting on its axis in the living room of others, and although I am at a stand still, I feel like I can’t stop spinning. Uncontrollably. Forcefully spinning like I am going to break off my stand and fall to the floor. Until I tune out the voices in the living room; the tv’s, electronics, neighbors, sirens and zooms of the cars passing by. Everything that tugs at the senses. My internal compass is lost and no one else can see.
So, I’m just sitting, looking, waiting, learning how to be at peace with myself in an ever spinning world.
Then there’s the feels. The feels you get when you feel something so damn beautiful that you get goosebumps. And you remember what a breath of fresh air feels like when it hits the back of your lungs and fills your nose with the sweet aroma of the day. Each day is a different fragrance misting onto your skin and filling your spirit. And you remember love. That there are beautiful souls that are made of droplets of water and light and dark and flowers and globes. They open to you like clouds opening to the sky after a rainstorm.
Their light reflects on you, coloring your rainbow.
Intense and sensitive. Complete and absolute opposites. Then they collide. Melting together with the burning wax of two different candles. Bursting with magic. A sweet release. Ingredients for healing and clarity. Breaking free from all the webs of the world as we know and living in a state of simplicity. You know what you want. You know what you need to do to be sensitive and soft, yet burn with intense passion. To not get trampled on by Big Foot’s paw and be able to kick back. Right in the balls to make it hurt a little to remind him that you’re there. To stand tall on the mountain, butt naked, screaming. Showing the world your essence, but you’re so high that they can’t blow you back down with the whispers and disrespect and lies and lack of morals. As much as they can believe and have opinions, they didn’t chase that sunrise to see new light.