Because
These days are for throat work. For deglutition – aka swallowing. For collaboration with pharynx and esophagus. For the miracle of the complexities of breathing. For honest communication swathed in the lapis-blue of my throat chakra energy. Quietly.
I’ve been swallowing it down. The words. The voices. I’ve been stomach-ing the fears. No wonder I’m bloated. My journal is alive with vibrating truths that I’ve been hiding.
I am not myself. I have never been more myself. Living in the paradoxes, I write to you every day…in my mind.
I don’t know why I hold back. That is the daily lie.
I know why I hold back.
Because – a one-word sentence. Because – conjunction-junction…what’s your function!
Because Miller wakes me early to rise and braid her hair. I will never say no to braiding…her hair, our time, our love together.
Because the dogs need walking.
Because the laundry needs doing.
Because the air smells so damn good, I need to keep inhaling.
Because my tailbone is a territory of torture. Sit, stretch. Stand, stretch. Pelvic floor muscles be weak…
Because PMS swells my bones and I’m too heavy to do anything.
Because there are too many books to read.
Because summer movies beckon me into their stories.
Because dishes.
Because sleep.
Because making love.
Because dancing.
Because repotting plants.
Because contemplation and reflection.
Because petting the dogs.
Because cooking.
Because eating.
Because blood work.
Because lunch with soul-sisters.
Because book launches.
Because bi-weekly chapters.
Because the YA novel.
Because editing.
Because workshops.
Because celebrations.
Because another mother passes.
Because badminton.
Because crying.
Because therapy.
Because workshops.
Because travel.
Because birthdays.
Because submissions.
Because the voices in my head.
Because because because! Because of the wonderful things he does…
Because the inside doesn’t match the outside.
Because worry.
Because nausea.
Because coffee. (Flat white, if you please.)
Because goodbyes.
Because laughter.
Because walking.
Because money.
Because there is always a voice in my head that tells me what I’m doing wrong, how my words don’t matter, how my voice is bad. Because this voice in my head is my childhood, my youth, my womanhood, my shift into crone…Because it is the voice of voices, a leader, a destiny, a lesson I’m continuing to learn. Because I have to, want to learn how to live with the dark as it is in equal force to the light. Because I’m still grieving the losses – made by my own choices, rooted in dignity and love, but still painful and healing.
Because I’m changing – again. And I wasn’t prepared for the suffering in my mind and body – this cohesively chaotic wild-dance of letting go, of embracing end-ships and of befriending the death of the body so I may learn how to return to starlight with love.
Because even as I write and the voice I love pushes past the voice that hates me, I see the difference in the language and fight to let it live in the black-letter-life of this blog I started nearly twenty years ago…
Because I want to learn how to create without the need to know that someone is reading.
Because I want someone to read and be affected.
Because I’ve always felt one step behind belonging.
Because belonging to my self, in this body now, is a treacherous hike into a forest of mirrors.
Because I know I am a writer.
Because purposes shift.
Because…
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