The things that have been going through my mind as of late: power, and the fickle balance between the masculine and the feminine. We give away our power right and left. I find that I've been doing it for the greater part of my life.
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Constantly ripping myself apart only to piece it back together, walking away with a better understanding of how I'm all patched together.
Flowing in and out of the feminine and the masculine. The feeler and the aggressor. Tenderness vs. strength. Responding and reacting. Unsure which should take the drivers seat. Had one wrongly driven when the other as asleep under shady tree cover, lion in the jungle?
Judging myself for not sticking to one side of the coin, embodied in the feminine, it should be a natural state of self. Not knowing where to place my own self; how to contain this slippery soul. Malleable beyond any form. In the blink of an eye, no warning signs.
Solid.
Liquid.
Gas.
Flowing through the cracks in communication, the cracks of the humans, the cracks in nature. Unsure where to place myself. What form to encapsulate? How to contain myself in a form, as it flitters away like sea horse into glistening deep sea.
Colors painting the sky. Changeable. A watercolor smeared above, hands dunked into a plethora of paints, brushing them from one end of the universe to the other.
Mutating. Through experience, moments. Sight. Through life.
With one interaction shattering the known universe, cracking the ground that which i walk. The ripple effect unceasing, reaching a fraction of infinity. Feet sinking into salty wet sand, in attempts to find solid footing.
Keeping head above the incoming tide, masculinity taking the front seat, fighting the incoming wake, aggression in full force, as hooves dig into the ground, bucking and snorting in exhausted effort. Breath coming short. The feminine feeling each ripple, gently tickling my toes, my feet, my legs, and splashing against my belly button, inviting me to sink deeper. Inviting me to play.
To learn to ride the wave, proving to be the most challenging undertaking. The blending of both energies, as they naturally eb and flow in perfect proportions, preprogrammed without calibrated thought, nor effort. The dance, a seemingly simple undertaking.
Solid, Liquid, gas, flowing elusively in natural trajectory to the situations, conversations and moments lived. Malleable beyond any capturable form. The wet salty sand tugging me deeper and deeper into the ground that which I find balance upon. Calmly falling into it's grace, peacefully pulling guiding one foot out the sinking floor that lies beneath, finding a foothold in the earth's changing form.Allowing the incoming surf to tickle body, mind and soul, present in opposing force, as they flow in and out, withdrawing into a fraction of infinity that is unseen, but is experienced and trusted by all that live.
Allowing the self to receive the incoming flow. Trusting. Meeting it in required form. Matching the energy. Breathing it in, in uncalibrated thought or effort, lion asleep under tree cover, flittering sea horse into glistening deep sea, hooves digging deep in search of solid ground.
