The world is still with the warmth of my own energy. And sleep evades me as it always does when I am feeling impervious to reason. I think of friendships; old, new and recovered. I think of love; lost, abandoned, and unrequited. My soul feels a thousand things that cannot be put into thoughts. And I must, I must, I must write because the burden is too heavy to leave it all unsaid.
It's been a while since I wrote a blog. My heart has been light with content. I have been participating in the things that are good for me. Yoga and hot tea. Falling in love with lovely souls. But all this trust in things going well makes me worrisome.
As I think on everything and nothing a quiet discontent grows in my chest. I can feel it building like fearful thoughts; one "what if" on top of another until my eyes close tight as if to ward it all off. This is my space that I have created. To let someone in happens slowly. Tentatively. I have learned that I am not as willing as I used to be to disregard the potential for heartbreak. Letting people into this space is more scary than it used to be. I used to think it's because I am somehow jaded but I truly think that it is because the space is so much deeper than it used to be. And cluttered. It makes me interesting and quirky but it also makes me scared that whoever I invite in to this hoarder's heart will find the fault there. Here I have to stop myself and start to climb out of the bottom of my space or be subjected to contemplate only the things I have done wrong.
I breathe deep, the clutter starts to shift, and I struggle into the lighter part of the space, where I usually reside. I remember who I am and who loves me and all the people I love. All the things that are real.
Life is beautiful, now don't you forget it!
