Stripped Bare

Sometimes, I stand naked in front of the mirror and look at myself. Into myself. I strip myself bare and look at my bones. My soul. The key components of who I am as a person. I do this because it's a reminder. Not that my thighs are jiggly and my hair is pretty much always unkempt, but that I am human. That I am on a journey. That these moments are my life and I should be participating in the fullest degree. These seconds, minutes, hours, days, months and years, cannot just slip by.

Every moment is precious. Every day I wake up a gift. Each moon rise noteworthy. The sunrises important.

It's easy to get sidetracked. To get swallowed by emotions and worries, strife, grief and uncertainty. The longer I stare at my bared body and soul, the more I see how convoluted existing can seem. But seem is an impression, not necessarily truth, and if you dim the lights and change the angle, everything shifts. Morphs. Looks different.

There is so much noise these days. So many distractions. We are carrying computers on us everywhere we go and this new fangled technology hinders us. Even when we are with our family and friends, we aren't with our family and friends. We are with our family and friends, and the hundred or so friends we have on our Facebook, Instagram, Twitter or whatever social media is our current vice. The noise gets to me. It grinds me down. Out in the world, there are radios and cars, people, phones, televisions everywhere. It's why I moved away from the city. Why I am in fact living in a village. But I love it here.

Because it is easier for me to strip myself bare. Because when I leave my house there are mountains all around me. Because the air smells of smoke and forest. Because the streets are quite. Because the stars can be seen when I look up at the night sky.

Still, even with all this wonderment around me, I get distracted. I forget. And I get downtrodden, especially in highly emotional times. I get weary. Tried. Broken. I forget how blessed I am. How happy I can be. And how healing the earth is.

So, I strip myself bare. And stand in front of the mirror and look. Not at how my belly may just be a bit bigger than it was last year, but at my soul. I reconnect with the girl I am, and the girl I want to be. The one who wants flowers in her hair and no shoes on her feet. It only takes a moment to reconnect with myself, but it's so important. Because when I lose sight of who I am, it gets hard. This whole thing is all about ebb and flow, I wonder why that always slips my mind.

The truth is I don't want my journey to be a burden. I want it to be an adventure.

It's nice to check in and see I am still here.

Blustery

Blustery is one of my most favourite words. Today, is one of those days. The wind is howling. Rain is falling in a sheet, from the side, cold and fierce, undeniable in its desire to soak you through to the bone. Wind chimes are knocking together. We have the wooden ones. So the sound is quite pleasing to the ear.

Dixon stood in the doorway for twenty minutes staring out into the storm. All day, he's done the same thing. Sat on the porch, smelling the air, but he refuses to go out in the rain. There's something amusing about him not wanting to get wet. I even went out there to clean up the garden a bit. Still, he sat on the porch. Watched the cars go past. Smelled the fresh, wet air.

I have decided to take a cue from my hound dog and am staying in.

My lofty goals for this weekend are to finish the novel I have been writing. It's a magical story full of wonderment and odd encounters. More so, it's about friendship and being who you are. You know, those boring themes almost all novels have in them. It's been going on far too long, though. Writing this thing.

So, as the rain comes down, tapping on the window, I will be tapping on my keyboard.

Trying to be creative. I am grateful that I can pretend to be a writer today.