Why Do I Write? Day 1 of 30 of Write Yourself Alive writing challenge

WriteYourselfAlive 30 Day Challenge. Writing prompt: Why do you write?

Take note of the similarities in all of your regrets, and all of the differences in your accomplishments.

I write because I want to get in touch with my heart. There is a longing that rises to the surface through my fingertips, when I'm feeling safe to let it out. That expression allows me to be those expressed words, when before I was shielding myself from being me. In moments when I cannot write, doing yoga asana helps to unleash what's inside, as the subtle body is the guardian to the gems inside. Somatic release allows the words to come out, which I can also feel and read in my mind's eye through meditation (moving or sitting).

regrets and accomplishments

I reget
that I am not a Naturopathic Doctor
that I do not swim in the ocean every day 
that I let myself believe I am doing something wrong often 
that I did not buy a convertible for my current car 
that I'm dragging my feet on publishing my first book

                        I'm proud
                        that I am moving to Encinitas—warm ocean, yoga
                        that I earned my M.A. in healing arts
                        that I'm on to my tendencies, samskaras burning
                        that I decided to keep my mini until old age
                        that I am writing the chapters and framework for book

The similarities in my regrets are that I have not been treating myself well as I should have. I recognize that I should treat myself as if I'm in love with myself, giving myself these gifts. Each of the regrets I'm taking on as dreams, and attempting to fulfill within the next month.

integrals parts of a dream

The differences in my accomplishments is that they are each separate integral parts to my one dream come true. I'll heal myself once I'm warm and with the dynamic yoga teacher and community, and have the warm ocean to swim in, but until then I'm realizing that I could do some of that currently, before moving. But day by day, my ashtanga yoga (always calling me on my shit) is burning away these behavior patterns to a point where I no longer need to use will power. Samskaras burning...

I've been writing my book page by page as if I've had a heavy load on top of me or a stalker watching me waste time indulging in my own heart. The reality is that I give myself permission to shine and be who I am meant to be.

I know that my eyes are filled with the beauty of how I've been loved. The emptiness I feel is more of an echo that it's ok to not be all of those things at once, always. To be loved just as I am on each given day, to know that I'm always growing myself (for myself) until then, but always be me, and some day someone will want all of it, all of me—complications, worries, and unlying love and all. I am brave and I trust that I am enough, I am beautiful. That waves break at the right moment.

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part ten

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part ten

memories of a heart

Continuing on from green and blue light, part nine in Behind the eyes of a writer™ series, I hear you thinking.

...you are

Your tapestry speaks of histories, of memories, and of dreams once lived yet maybe not. You are a heart that I have won. Even my nervous and tender sentences do not put a dent in your undying craze over me.

Sand blows as mountains built over time, over years of wondering and knowing how we would be.

My silence is an intoxicting place of refuge—of rest—for us to swim in. Between us lies a journey of rivers and ripples that have yet to settle into their form.

Image source: Alex Theory

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