rising whole, gently

I’ve been in the cut lately. Spending time in creative spaces with creative people who need nothing from me but my fellowship. Feeding on a million stories, nourished by a million possibilities. I’ve been dancing with poets and artists, making new friends, reclaiming the time that has been redeemed. It feels right. It feels just. It is on time.

I offer gratitude for the people that have come into my orb. I am grateful for the moments of sharing and welcomed depth. Thank you for being here. It seemed I had come to a standstill in many ways. Before, I would use the term “recharge”- that sounds aggressively tied to a workhorse mentality. Now, I am saying that I am emerging, recovering, flowering- waking gently and rising from the weary nowhere that was my creative tar pit. Expressing not agonizing anymore. It’s challenging but not agonizing. It’s only agonizing when I don’t story-tell. If I am to continue, it must be with a clear mind. The shows are over, the story continues. I am such a wonderful character. . .such a fulfilling journey.

My days as a teacher have been a reminder of how my soul seeks to give itself to human progression and wield a story of inspiration. My engagement with the community in an honest way, is bringing me up to speed on what the important things that I used to remember- like my hearts desires, dreams, wishes. I’ve been faithfully wounded in solitude and most sacredly healed.

And all this, my friends, is how I have slowly come to be restored and reunited with my work. I rise, tenderly greeted by flickering sunlight. It says to me, “hello my darling you.” -Teddy the Brave