Tonight I fantasized about living in a little hut in the grasses near the ocean. Catching fish, growing wildflowers, watching birds, making their portrait.
Yesterday I took off my clothes on the wide low tide beach. Walked into the water and floated myself in the ice cold. The shallows span out in all directions. Looking to the sky, the dome of vision made me feel a body bobbing between sky and water. A little scared, a little peace, a little perfect. Felt alive.
Sometimes I get restless over spiritual head-soup: Jesus /end times/ perfection in the chaos/ whatever I'm obsessed with at the moment. Fretting over the quality of my soul (as if I know what that is) makes me tired and instead I want to just scream, "YES!" to my blood. Eat wild things. Feel the breeze of the heron as he wings by or shiver in the ocean under the stars. I wish I knew the stars.
In fact, I wish I knew everyone I know.
We do our weeping alone and that doesn't help.