2016, a scar of poetic beauty, a piercing of joy and sorrow

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Dear 2016,

You were a wicked bitch.

Sweet and feral.

Brutal and protective.

Raw and loyal.

Joyful and hopeful.

I was hoping for more lush and less dull thudding pain.

I was wishing for more luminous when what was required was more walking through the dark looking for the hurt places.

Grief was near. This second year without my mom was more real and had her missing from so much.

There was new life with sweet Nora that brought so much joy.

Deep pain, riotous happy.

There was relief from all the testing, growing, learning.

Pink rocks, hills of them on Georgian bay, stunning in their moss speckled beauty. The anniversary of your leaving mom. I was there then walking on them and remembering your endless love.image

IΒ remember the moon that night. A sickle rising above the lake. All the humans sitting and watching as she rose in the pink light of the setting sun. Breathing with them. Life going on.

All the lakes, Superior, Huron, Michigan. Diving into their depths, immersed full body underneath, away and near.

Washed clean, new in her magic, home.

The Lake Superior shore, the heat, the heat and then the wet, cool deep. Frolicking like a seal, sealskin, soulskin. Back in her, beloved in her, found in her.

And the trees, the rocks, the endless forests along the road.

Time out of mind.

Beaches beneath toe and heel, stone sentinels of granite and gneiss. Speckled grey green and blue, peach and pewter. Each one a jewel in the sand. Guardian and guide post.image

Waterfalls and ancient cedars with gnarled roots like Tolkein forests with meandering stone walls marching along the ravines edge. Magic in the very air.

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This beauty as real as any pain. This beauty as cutting to the heart. Wrenching open to all of this aliveness.

This leaving its mark, a poetic trail, a scar, inked in beauty on me.

Remembering a year lived in all its complexity, soft and sharp edges. Alive to live it.

Writing down its bones as the year closes not having written all year.

I have no answers as to why when it brings clarity and a settledness to my soul.

 

2017 you’re here. I want you to be full of wild luminous parties under the moon, Nora walks, girl gangs, new friendships and creative collaborations with other wild minded ones. Perhaps a wander through making and magic and reading tea leaves under the maple tree on chairs like peacocks. Maybe we could all play together in the wild luminous playhouse breathing in enchantment and dreaming while awake.

Life mark me with your poetic paths of memory, your runes of experience and adventure. Your piercings of joy and sorrow so that I know I’m here. I’m alive. I’m a part of it all. The spinning earth, this lush and luminous life. The wet, the dirt, the wild in all of it,

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finding myself again in the dark forest under the moon,

love Melissa

 

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broken open, wide open heart

Those girls on fire

Hey there lovely, messy, unruly ones.

I feel like I went on a bit of a hiatus here. Life happens and I’m just following my wild muses lead.

It’s been a spring and summer of great changes and some heart rending transitions in my life. My mom left us to dance with her loved ones on the other side this July. It was a blessing for her tired mind and pained body. I miss her and know that she’s smiling down on me dancing the jitterbug and playing piano as she always dreamed of. Play on mom.

The gifts I’ve been given throughout her sickness are many. My own vow to be alive here and now in my messy, vibrant life is one that sustains me and awakens me. I know she’d want this for me.

This waking up to all that I am and all that I crave and need to be fully alive is not always an easy process. It requires feeling it all. Crashing through the waves and diving deep. Living in the uncertainty of change. Listening to all that’s calling my name. The day dreams of deserts and vintage campers and experiences I can’t name yet, that I long for, come to me in images and song that lead me closer.

And the words. Playing with them. Writing down the bones like secret messages. Following their clues. Following the turn ons and the oh fuck yeses. Finding the ones who want to walk with me down this dirt road, illuminated path. All leading to more of me that wants to come out and play.

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I laid down on the hood of my car two nights ago and watched the epic magic of the Perseid meteor shower. I let out a rebel yell every time I saw those pieces of miracle dust shoot across the Milky Way. I wished on every one I saw. I wished for so many things. I let my broken wide heart lead me. I highly recommend this as the most potent kind of joy elixir. As the absolute best medicine for anything that hurts or diminishes your lovely, holy aliveness.

This truth I know today. When you let your heart break open, when you let the fucking brutal pain pass through it, when you allow yourself to be a messy, imperfect, feeling being, you will see in the deep darkness all that your made of. What you’re scared of most can be loved into the light, can grow up from those dark, fecund places where the magic lives. What you’ll find is that you are all that. You are joy as you are sorrow. You are the brightest blinding light and you are the deep, sweet dark. And it’s all good. You are wild like the night. You are the warmth and beauty of the sun. You are an ocean playing with the tides. Yes! You are that powerful and so crazy beautiful.

I hope you wish on those crazy shooting stars tonight. I hope you roar at the new moon and tell it your deepest dreams. She’s listening. I am too. I see you, I hear you gorgeous. Wishing you all the love your unbound heart can hold. xoxoxoxo

Love always, Melissa