Diving, for shiny things

I dream of lovely things. I dream of greater certainty, direction, and hope. I dream of passion-filled energy, a forward leaping of the heart that expands so earnestly that it would burst from my chest.

But I am not there yet. Not yet. Today I feel the tightness wrapped around my shoulders and neck. I feel the words tucked under my tongue, locked like a jack-in-the-box surrendered to darkness. I don't know what kind of magic is needed to unlock this flurry, this fury of words that is barricaded deep within my ribcage. I don't know how much passion I must hurl against this locked space to penetrate the walls of ego that seek to only suppress. I would rather speak of shiny things, like the day I spent here only 2 days ago. But if integrity is to prevail, if authenticity is to thrive, I cannot.

The heckler that resides behind my shadowy thoughts is poking fun at the ridiculousness of my willingness to continue to ride these roller coasters, though they make me ill to the bone, though the rises and falls are exasperating, though I feel as if the cart that holds me down will fly off track at any turn. But there is this, always this: I will walk out, just as I had walked in.

I write. I write because it's the only thing I know to do when I feel this way. I write because when my voice shuts down and my tongue hides, the words still must come, more than ever now. They spring from the very well that is parched, cracked and dry, the very space that feels infinitely empty and cloaked in black fog.

I resist the fear to explore the dark. How else are we to know ourselves well enough to expose the traitorous thoughts that binds our ankles and twists our minds? How else are we to unveil the anchors that keep us from soaring deliberately into the brightness of what's yet to come? The darkness does not define, nor does it devour.

So for now, I dive, and when I return, I will speak of shiny things :)....

xoxox