Hey you, remember me?
I was in the midst of dancing session when I wrote this piece. Cooking dinner and having a table-for-1 dance party in my kitchen, shirt off, tunes up … jamming with the spirit of playfulness.
My friend,
you haven’t laughed in a bit.
You’ve stiffened like a board in body and mind,
calcified joints in a bind,
your faith and your joy lost to the winds of time.
I beg of you —
look to the window that carries the morning light
past its blinds into your eyes,
lighting your mind with the brilliance of the mystery,
the fire in the sky illuminating your being…
and how destructive forces,
that ball of fire births light in the wake of its brilliance.
Look to the door that opens,
but you must turn the knob
to move the door off its hinge.
Look to the kids that laugh and play
for no reason other than to laugh and play
for its joyful, connecting sake.
The first step through that door
may be a tricky one to take.
Easily pulled by comfort and known,
though they are a clever velvet prison
holding you captive,
only because you couldn’t see the gate.
Key in your pocket,
you can unlock the bolt to your heart space,
moving at your own pace —
no more race to the finish line
that was never yours to cross,
for goodness sake!
Forget you may, but remember you must trust.
And trust that you will remember.
Intention will guide you
to the place between thought and breath,
weightless again,
making amends with the journey back to yourself,
feeling the tears come,
emotion express the chi once trapped in your heart space.
Welcome to that place.
Where time is only a concept,
and love is everywhere you look.
And it acknowledges you back.
It’s always had your back.
Only a mirror…
and you finally looked back.
I know you feared it
and I know you were scared,
but that’s okay,
because it provides the experience rich with wisdom,
now lived and acknowledged.
Seen.
Feeling seen.
Seeing.
Shared love
by sharing a moment of presence
with the eyes that look back to yours.
And you remember…
How to feel again,
by seeing with the eyes,
but being guided by the heart’s whisper.
— J