I’ve been so dull at times, it feels impossible to remember what it’s like to consistently shine. During those periods when I feel like I’m underwater, I can only half grasp on to that all-encompassing sparkle that happens when I am just so with my own rhythm, my own soul.
But the memory of the vibrance keeps me going.
It was not long ago that I felt sated and warm and comfortable, I think, as I grapple with the unsteadiness that keeps me antsy and off-center and wild. It wasn’t but several months ago when I sat in a chair and felt warm.
And so the whole of my little journey here is to get back to that settled place that I remember. Whether it’s conjuring the memory up in my restless mind or reconstructing the experience from whatever dulled pieces I can find that make up that distant way of being, that place that found me content with things just as they are—I’m forever diving into the depths again until I once more find myself relaxing with how things really are.
Don’t Hate Me Because I Ponder,
Rita the Ruminator