This moon cycle, my heart was turned like the compost.
It was a time for digging up, and airing out.
Dormant ways of feeling were churned from the bottom to take in oxygen again, and be better integrated with the present.
In times like this, my nomadic impulse tells me to drive in order to keep up with the internal momentum.
But in exploration of staying put, of taking in, and not pushing out, I needed a different kind of vehicle.
The road has always felt comfortable to me.
With no specific place to be and no specific time to be anywhere,
I am neutralized.
I can explore.
I can process.
There is no pressure.
Doodling is kind of like that.
Drawing with no direction, but waiting for the direction to become illuminated.
When It arrives, it strobes through my vision.
It flashes with the image, or color, or shape, or number to make next,
The Way through verifies itself with the familiar stamp of sturdiness behind my belly button, filling the inside of my ribcage.
The feeling of fullness blips on the radar, and lets me know I've found the current.
I don't resist the signal,
I just follow without hesitation,
because it really doesn’t matter what this looks like.
What matters is the smooth comfort of chalk, blurring between my finger and the paper;
the full sound the marker makes curving long against the page;
the light bouncing off the color and bringing it alive.
What matters is getting the mind into the body.
What matters is the game I am playing with the present
to just listen.
and stop making this moment
all about myself.
Managing my emotional space can feel like a game where I am sometimes losing ground,
sometimes gaining twice as much ground,
and sometimes losing it all again.
I'm reluctant to be forgiving of myself
when I return to outmoded patterns, repeating lessons.
I “should” on myself for not having learned the first, or second, or the twelfth time.
Coloring helps me view what I am coming up against emotionally with more distance.
By acting from a desire to align with Higher Will and listening for its morse code, pulsing deep in my body, I am recalibrated.
I can return with more fluidity to a neutral state.
Its the best tool I've found so far for getting myself out of dejected spaces.
It expands the container I create for myself in the process,
giving me the ability to hold space around whatever arises,
"good" or "bad", and let it breathe again.
Let it be known, and felt, and gently turned between my hands.
Warming up the emotional tissue,
letting it grow soft and return to the Whole.
The sacred act of coming home to my body,
acknowledging the information my vessel wants to communicate,
and practicing non-resistance to it
preserves my Life force.
It builds a relationship with Flow that I can feel, and let guide me as I walk through this embodiment.