"We are all wanderers on this earth...our hearts are full of wonder, and our souls are deep with dreams." ~ Gypsy proverb

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

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

15 comments:

  1. yes yes sister
    you will mine the deep
    and bring back emeralds and rubies
    diamonds of great rainbow beauty
    lasting wisdom that will burn our ears
    ...
    I look forward to it all

    and perhaps
    just maybe
    we will meet there
    in the dark
    and laugh at our fear

    love and light angel

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  2. You are right, 'the darkness does not devour',
    we will rise, 'go out as we came in'
    and 'speak of shiny things',
    once more...

    Thank you for this post,
    it speaks to me... x

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  3. brilliant post....

    i relish the dark...there is deep magic there...and i understand the inclination toward speaking of shiny things -- after all, most people do not dwell in shadows comfortably and heaven forbid we should make anyone feel uncomfortable! ;)

    sink into your deepening, dear MJ...may it unravel the ties that bind you..

    xoxo

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  4. I spent so many years in the darkness...
    the three words that got me through were "follow your heart"
    xo
    c

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  5. beautifully written. I know the dark you speak of. keep exploring xxx

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  6. Is that a self-portrait? I LOVE it.

    xo
    c.

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  7. Love your words and your photo is beautiful.

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  8. Oh, I feel this. Some days I fear the darkness will overcome me, then something appears that shows me the light once more. I think there is so much power in embracing both sides of ourselves - the light and the dark. Neither are to be feared, just lived.


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  9. "I resist the fear to explore the dark" -- mmm, mmm, mmmmh! don't i know it. my relationship is straining because of my own fears to explore the dark. my mirror is perfect, but I am refusing to look.

    MJ, your words inspire me. move me. light something within me. I want to know you more. can we try tea again? or a hike?

    best, Jules

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  10. oh that tightness. i'm so empathising with that right now. x

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“Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.”
~ George Bernard Shaw