While perusing the internet in the search for some creative inspiration tonight, I find the following pearl from Doorways Traveler.
butterfly beach. august 2010.
i find myself alone now more than ever before in my life. sometimes it is lonely. sometimes i want to rant and scream and call everyone i know at once. sometimes there just isn’t much to say. sometimes i have to force myself out the door. or to my altar. sometimes the time goes so quickly that i am shocked, like how the right conversation can carry on effortlessly through the sleep hours. i take long showers and i let the water scald my back as i watch the rivulets on the tile change directions with the touch of my fingertip. i follow the moth as it sacrifices life for the light, over and over again. i get lost in books and i think a lot. and then i try to move beyond the thoughts. once i even ran fast circles around my yard in the late starlight, tripping on oak roots as my bare feet became numb from the cold muddy grass. mostly, i just toss myself into the waves: the hot tears, the euphoria, the hollow expanses, the hummingbird flutters, the new, and the aged. there is accuracy in all of it. stillness, even. as if there is no place else to be.
